


Edge of the World

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-29
Updated: 2003-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-27 04:55:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 59,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12073938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: The year is 55BC. Brian is a Roman officer and Justin is a tattooed Celt.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

The weather alone was enough to make him return home. It seemed that no matter where he stepped there was mud in place of solid ground. He was truly amazed that people would chose to live in this location. Granted, the only people that inhabited the vast wilderness on the edge of the world were nothing but savages who painted their skin with all sorts of ungodly images just like the rest of the Celts on the mainland, but even for a barbarian race it was a desolate place. 

“It boggles the mind why Caesar would want to conquer this pit,” Brian complained as he felt his boots sink deep into the mud. At the rate things were going he would never be clean again. “He could have easily subdued the Celts without venturing here.” 

“Perhaps he preferred a challenge,” was the assumption made by the man standing to the right of him. 

Brian snorted mirthlessly, drawing his heavy cloak around him as he felt the rain begin to descend once again. “This goes far beyond a challenge, my friend.” 

“Really, Brian, if I did not now better I would assume I was speaking to Michaelo,” the man taunted, earning a dark glare from his hazel-eyed companion. “At ease, my good man. I mean no offense. One would be a fool to compare you to Michaelo.” 

Leaving the man sputtering apologies, Brian headed towards the area where his men were encamped. In sharp contrast to the foul weather, he was surprised to see that his men were in remarkably high spirits. The change in scenery, even a dour one as the southern shores of Britannia provided, was a welcome one to the young men under his command. At twenty-nine, Brian was actually younger than many of the soldiers which he commanded, though a childhood spent in a Roman garrison in the Spartan area of Greece had hardened him at a very young age. Having lived in the center of military life from birth, it seemed only natural that Brian was commander of the same legion he had once been a member of when the former holder of that position was killed on the shores of Gaul only a few weeks before. 

Though new and untried in the ways of leadership, Brian got along well enough. Five years together had produced a well oiled machine that functioned perfectly with barely an order from Brian. Each man knew every other man in the legion and would willingly die to protect him comrade. 

The rain was falling harder by the time Brian finally reached his tent. The musty dampness within nearly chased him back out into the pouring rain. The army had been in Britannia only three days, but to Brian it felt like an eternity. He longed, more than anything, to return to his home on the hills overlooking Rome itself. It had been more than five years since he had left the villa in the care of his beloved sister, Lindsai. As a member of Caesar’s vast army, though, he had been unable to deny the call to arms that had brought him to this far flung corner of the world even as his newly widowed sister neared the birth of her first child. A son, Brian later learned, named Augustus in honour of the boy’s father who had died just into the third month of Lindsai’s pregnancy. 

Removing his drenched cloak, Brian threw it down onto the heavy wooden chest that held his most cherished belongings. Animal skins, rugs and furs covered the floors enough to protect them from the mud beneath and also allowed Brian to walk barefoot as he had always felt most comfortable. Though he was a Roman, his childhood in Greece had opened him to the Greek appreciation for the human form and had no qualms about presenting himself naked when others would cover themselves in roles of linens. 

However, the weather was far too cold to allow Brian to strip clean of all his clothes. His boots and armor did go, of course, leaving Brian dressed in a plain pair of linen leggings and a billowing tunic that hung lank upon his shoulders. 

“You received a letter from your lady sister,” Emile, his servant, said as he appeared from deeper within the tent. “I placed the scroll on your bed since I assumed you would read it before you retired.” 

“Any other news?” Brian asked as he made his way towards his desk to look over the various maps strewn there, all of which bored different interpretations of the known lands of Britannia. 

Emile picked up Brian’s soaked cloak with a huff. “I have asked you countless times not do be so careless with your cloak, master. You shall destroy the beautiful chest your mother gave you.” 

“To the point, Emile,” Brian prompted, not feeling up to trading barbs with the other man. 

“Tomorrow at dawn Caesar demands a meeting with his commanders to further strategize now that our scouts have gained a better lay of the land,” Emile replied blandly, quite obviously bored with the question. 

Finally locating the map he had been searching for, Brian sat himself down at his desk, grunting his thanks as Emile set a goblet of wine in front of him. He found himself unable to concentrate on the precisely drawn lines which marked the parchment. There was no need for him to look at the map in any case for he had the thing memorized. 

A welcomed distraction came from beyond the entrance of the tent. Angry shouts and the sounds of a scuffle that was quite out of place from the ribald teasing and jests that he had heard before entering his sanctuary. Frustrated and out of sorts already, Brian slammed the battered metal goblet down and stalked out of his tent and into the storm, mindless of his naked feet. 

“What is going on here?” Brian shouted over the din created by the throng of shuffling bodies. 

Two or three of the soldiers turned towards Brian before nudging their neighbours, alerting them to his presence. By the time Brian reached the group, the noise had stopped and they were all facing him, though obviously hiding something. 

“I asked a question and demand an answer,” Brian growled, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. Already the rain had come hard, plastering his shirt to his body. “Crassus, what is the reason for this sudden congregation?” 

The man in question started momentarily, glancing at the man surrounding him in search of a way to avoid the question. 

“Now,” Brian hissed angrily, daring the man to deny him his answers further. 

“M-Marcus stumbled across the boy skulking just inside the forest over there,” Crassus stammered, pointing at the wooded area in question. “He’s one of the barbarians. You can tell from the look of him.” 

While he spoke, the boy was shoved unceremoniously through the crowd until he was visible to Brian. A Celt, obviously. The tattoos that painted his skin were proof enough of that, though he was not a boy as Crassus assumed. The Celt was a man as evidenced by the hardness in his startling blue eyes. There was a stubborn set to his jaw which was sharply contradicted by his trembling form, though Brian suspected that had more to do with cold than actual fear. The young Celt was dressed in naught but leather pants and a worn pair of boots, vast areas of his skin left open to the pounding rain. 

“Crassus, bring the boy into my tent. The rest of you search the area for any other barbarians then report back to me with your findings,” Brian ordered, already moving back towards his tent without waiting for a response. 

Back inside his tent, Brian immediately began to remove his tunic, wadding it up and throwing it against a wall. By the time Crassus entered with the Celt, Brian was using his leggings to wipe the mud from his feet. Satisfied that his feet were relatively clean, he tossed the leggings alongside his tunic and stood naked before the two men. 

“Emile, get me my robe!” Brian shouted even though his servant was probably already doing as much. “Crassus, out.” 

“But, sir--” 

“OUT!” 

When Emile appeared with his robe, Brian slipped gratefully into it, hoping that it would coax some warmth into his chilled limbs. The boy was still shaking so Brian quietly asked for Emile to get a blanket for him. 

“I want nothing from you, Roman,” the blonde Celt hissed, catching Brian completely off guard. The last thing he had expected was for the boy to speak such fluid Latin. 

“If it helps matters, I am not fully Roman so you will not be accepting from a Roman but a Greek if you so choose,” Brian offered as he retrieved his wine from where he had placed it prior to his earlier exit. 

The Celt did not appear the least bit impressed by Brian’s words, though he did not shake off the blanket Emile draped over his shoulders. “I can find no distinction between the two. Greek or Roman you are still set upon conquering my people.” 

“That is where you are wrong,” Brian informed him, lifting his index finger from where it was curled around the bowl of the goblet and pointing it at the blonde. “What I want is to go home. I have a sister and a nephew who is nearly five that I have yet to see. Nothing could please me more than to leave this drenched island. I am unfortunately stranded at the moment and can not leave.” 

“If it is a boat you require, I would gladly provide you with one large enough to take your entire army away from my home,” the boy growled, unconsciously wrapping the unwanted blanket tighter around his shivering body. The fabric parted slightly and Brain could see that his wrists were bound together with a scrap of leather, the material biting in to his tender skin. 

“I like you,” Brian announced quite suddenly, startling the Celt. “Men who have served with me since I was younger than you find it impossible to form a complete sentence in my presence but you... you talk with a fire and passion that I find quite refreshing. It is shame that we find ourselves on opposing sides for I would enjoy your company.” 

“Why would I desire to spend any conceivable amount of time with you?” he inquired, his voice laced with an anger that merely masked the confusion that the boy was unable to wipe from his features. 

“Because you are not as tough as you make yourself to be,” Brian offered. “Nor quite so pigheaded as to reject the only safe harbour you will find within this entire camp. Of course, if I am mistaken I have no problem whatsoever in returning you to my soldiers.” 

That gave the boy pause. He was unable to meet Brian’s eyes and instead seemed to find something quite fascinating in the lay of the furs beneath his booted feet. Brian could tell the exact instant that the Celt reached his decision because his shoulders slumped. Still not lifting his eyes, the boy dropped to his knees, the movement causing the blanket to slide from his lax grip and from his shoulders. 

Stepping behind the boy, Brian found himself entranced by the display dark lines that stained the fair skin. There was a beauty to them that he had never before taken notice of despite his five year dealings with the Celts. The man-made lines matched perfectly with the natural lines of the boy’s body and his shifting muscles. On the right side of his throat in particular, Brian focused on a tattoo which was created of countless swirling lines which eventually formed a circle. 

“The lines are all one,” the Celt spoke up as though reading into Brian’s thoughts. “It is a single thread that has no beginning and no end. It continues without end for all of eternity.” 

“It is very beautiful,” Brian offered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Though I would imagine painful to receive.” 

At last he lifted his head, turning to meet Brian’s gaze. “You speak as someone who has known great pain in your life.” 

“More than my share, so I have been informed, but it is of little consequence,” Brian mumbled absently as he pushed his damp bangs from his forehead with the heel of his palm. “Your name, however, is.” 

“Justin.” 

Brian swallowed the rest of the wine in a single gulp. “Justin. Much simpler than many of your people are particular to. Very well, Justin, I would like to know how it is that you came to know Latin. You are, after all, quite far from its center.” 

“A Greek. He was a scholar that came to our shores when I was but a child and taught me to speak both Latin and Greek while deriving as much information about our gods as was possible.” 

Such a thing was not an odd occurrence. What Brian found most unusual was that Justin had retained knowledge of a language that he had no need to ever speak. It worked in Brian’s favour actually for he had been wanting to learn to speak the Celtic tongue for a good while and now had to means to do so at his disposal. 

“Emile, where’s my knife?” Brian barked over his shoulder, his eyes straying from Justin’s face for only a moment. When he turned back he could see the panic in the Celt’s eyes. The panic was quickly hidden, but Brian was still aware of its presence. 

Emile appeared at his side without a sound, the well honed blade resting harmlessly in his outstretched palm. “I hope you do not intend to do anything rash.” 

“Now why should you worry about that?” Brian asked, flashing the man a feral grin which was gone by the time he knelt down in front of Justin. 

“Wha... what are you doing?” Justin stammered, his calm failing for the moment. 

Lifting the boy’s bound wrists with his left hand, Brian placed the edge of his blade against the corded leather. “I had thought that would be obvious. Marcus always ties his knots too tightly, fraying the rope. It can only be worse, I imagine, when biting into the skin.” 

With a single, swift movement, the blade sliced through the leather, freeing Justin’s wrists. Brian’s hand continued to grip Justin’s wrist, never having loosened its hold. He slowly raised Justin’s arm, inspecting the heavy leather guard which encased his arm from just above his wrist to the middle of his forearm. Like his own skin, the leather had been painted with ink, though the images were far more faded and harder to interpret. 

After a few minutes, Brian dropped Justin’s wrist and lifted his gaze to the curious blue one. “Whether you remain bound or not is your decision. Try to run and do not doubt that my men will track you down and bring you back here, though your physical condition when they are finished is not one you would enjoy. It is my hope that we can benefit each other. But I need your word that you will not betray me. That you will remain here, under my protection and out of harm’s way.” 

“Why?” 

With a shrug of his shoulders, Brian rose to his feet. “Only the gods themselves know for certain. Either way, I can assure you that I will be far more lenient than any plans Caesar would have for you. He would break you in an attempt to gain information from you.” 

There was a hesitation then Justin nodded his head once. “I accept.” 

“A wise choice.”


	2. Edge of the World

It was his own fault that it had happened. He had foolishly ventured too close to the Roman encampment despite many warnings from his father and the other elders of their tribe. Justin had wanted to get a close up view of the strange invaders who had stormed their shores only days before. What he had not intended was to find himself trapped within their midst. A prisoner of one in particular. 

The tall, slender Roman with the sad eyes. 

Regardless of how kindly the Roman might treat him, Justin was not going to allow his guard to slip for an instant. He had heard enough tales drift over from the mainland of how the Romans treated their Celtic slaves. For that was what Justin was now; a slave. 

“You are fortunate that it was my master’s men who stumbled across you,” Emile informed him as he busied himself tidying up after the Roman. 

Justin was sitting leaned up against a large trunk, doing his best to remain out of the other man’s way. As promised, he was unbound, but the armed guards standing on either side of the tent opening prevented any escape attempts. Justin had been a witness to the Romans’ fighting prowess upon their arrival three days before. Even with those odds stacked against him, Justin would have chanced it were the sun not shining overhead. Only a fool would attempt a solo escape without the darkness of night as an aide. 

“He is a disgusting Roman. That is all I need to know,” Justin spat out, his eyes trained on a spot on the floor near Emile’s feet. 

The feet turned in his direction, one tapping in irritation. “You are quite mistaken, my dear boy. My master is not a typical Roman. The blood thirsty rage of his companions has passed him by completely. Only tradition and honour binds him in military service.” 

“Says the devoted slave,” Justin snorted mirthlessly, his eyes never straying from the furs on the ground. 

“Devoted servant,” Emile corrected him, his footsteps taking him to another area of the tent. “I follow my master willingly. He has saved your life if you but knew it.” 

It angered Justin that there was truth behind the words. For months, news had been coming from the mainland of tribes utterly slaughtered at the whim of the Romans. When the Roman hadn’t ordered his death, Justin had been genuinely shocked. He had assumed that he was dead the instant the band of soldiers had surrounded him. His attempts to fight them off had proved futile and they had stolen his sword before binding his wrists together. 

“I have a salve that will ease the pain in your wrists,” Emile suggested, his feet appearing in Justin’s line of sight once again. 

Justin tensed as the slave knelt before him, a battered tin jar in his hand. Though a shrill voice in his mind was telling him not to allow Emile to tend to his wrists which had been torn slightly by the ropes the Roman soldiers had bound them with. Still, the other man was no threat so Justin did not protest his actions with anything more than a dismissive glance. Any protests he made would have been futile in any case. 

However, the slave was the best chance Justin had at an escape attempt. As long as he believed Justin was no threat he would tell the Roman as much and their guards would be let down. He already knew where the weapons were kept so it was just a matter of waiting for the right moment. And if he was lucky, he would catch the Roman unawares and be able to use him as a hostage to gain his freedom. 

“Plotting will get you nowhere, boy,” Emile said as he rose back to his full height. “My master is not the fool you think him to be.” 

For the first time, Justin raised his eyes from the ground to meet the other man’s gaze. The ease with which the other man seemed to read his thoughts was unnerving. In only a few short minutes, the slave seemed to predict what his thoughts were and responded in accord. 

“Need I remind you that you promised my master you would not to attempt an escape?” Emile prompted with a satisfied smirk. 

A man of his honour, Justin could only scowl at the truth in the slave’s words. He had made his decision and would now be forced to abide by it. Though he was far from pleased with the stipulations of his oath, it was ensuring his survival. However, Justin had yet to fully test the limits of his survival. Should it become necessary, Justin would willingly end his won life rather than exist as a broken man. 

“Your fears are futile, boy. You shall not be broken in any manner. My master would never allow it,” Emile spoke up, his voice coming from somewhere deep within the recesses of the massive tent. 

Keeping his gaze directed downwards, Justin idly fingered a dangling piece of leather than hung down from his wristguard. “There you are quite mistaken. I know nothing about this Roman so my fears are entirely justifiable. I can not be certain that he will live by his word and I would be a fool to let my guard down on the chance that he is. I will not risk my life in such a way.” 

There was a brief silence that hung heavy in the air. 

“Boy, come here.” 

The tone of Emile’s voice was not demanding. He was giving Justin full choice in whether he approached or not. Something in his voice, however, called to Justin, leaving him unable to remain seated. Justin rose slowly, his muscles stretching after several hours of inactivity and made his way in the direction of Emile’s voice. He had no idea of what he would find on the other side of the curtain, but Emile had given him no reason to doubt his motives as of yet. There was no malice in the other man, so Justin was sure that no harm would befall him. 

As he stepped around the curtain, Justin immediately spotted the man standing next to a table cluttered with various odds and ends. Scrolls, small metal canisters, an assortment of weapons and materials necessary to make repairs to them. The other objects, however, were ones that Justin could not recognize either because they were half-hidden by something else or he had never seen their like before. In his hands, Emile was holding one of the wooden boxes. It was small, barely the size of his hand, but the way Emile was handling it indicated that its contents were very important. 

Which was why it surprised him when Emile handed him the box. 

“To my master, this is all that really matters.” 

Hesitantly, Justin held out his hand to accept the precious box from Emile. He held it carefully for a moment, examining the intricate carvings on the box. For the most part, the symbols were ones that he did not recognize, but was quite sure that they bore a significant for the Roman. After glancing up at Emile for approval, Justin slid open the lid of the box and peered inside at its contents. 

“A box of dirt?” Justin asked in confusion. 

Emile nodded his head, a smile playing on his lips. “A piece of his home. This was taken from the garden in the villa my master shares with his sister. He took this the morning we left five long years ago.” 

Though he tried to keep his features neutral, Justin was taken aback by the information he had just been given. He had not believed the Roman when he had claimed to want nothing other than to return home, yet the small box of earth showed otherwise. 

At the same time, Justin knew full well that he couldn’t take the other man’s words completely at value. It could very well have been a ploy to get him to lower his guard. Something that Justin had no intention of allowing to occur. His current predicament was proof enough that the Romans had caught him unawares without adding to the situation. 

Still, the sight of the dirt gave him pause. There was no difference between the soil of his home and that of the Roman so far from here. They both had homes from which they had been separated. Though physically his home was closer, it felt to Justin as if oceans separated him from his home. He pushed that thought from his head and replaced the lid on the box before passing it back to the servant. 

“There is not much difference between yourself and my master,” Emile said to him as he set the box back onto the table. 

“I’ll thank you not to insult me in such a manner,” Justin responded quickly, turning to resume his earlier position in front of the massive chest. 

“No insult intended,” Emile called after him. “An observation only. One which I hope you will take to heart.” 

Justin’s retort died in his throat when he caught sight of a movement in the entrance out of the corner of his eye. A Roman soldier that Justin had yet to see was standing there, staring at him in open shock. The shock died quite quickly, replaced by an incredible rage that Justin was unable to react to before he found himself flat on his back with a Roman short sword poised at his throat. 

It took only a few moments for Justin’s instincts to take over and he began to fight for control of the sword. He gripped the man’s forearms, attempting to force the blade away from his throat. Justin could vaguely hear Emile shouting something in the background, but his main concentration was on not having his throat slit. 

“What have you done to Brian, barbarian?” the Roman snarled, leaning in close to Justin’s face. 

Not speaking due to the sharp blade resting only a hairsbreadth from the corner of his jaw, Justin instead glared up at the Roman, his lips curled into a snarl. 

The Roman was hauled away from him quite suddenly. Dropping his head back onto the ground, Justin brought a hand up to his throat, feeling for any damage. Not finding any, he let out a relieved sigh then quickly surveyed the tent’s interior for the man who had attacked him. 

Justin caught sight of him straight away, pressed up against a heavy wooden beam by his captor. Justin was shocked by the anger he saw on the Roman’s face as well as the defensive words that he heard the other man growl out. 

“What do you think you are doing, Michaelo? You have no right to touch the boy.” 

“I thought that... that he had harmed you,” Michaelo gasped out, his breath halting as the other man had his forearm pressed tight against his throat, cutting off the flow of air. 

The Roman’s entire body radiated the anger that was heard in his voice. “And that is conceivable when there are guards standing right outside my tent. The boy is here for a reason. One that does not concern you.” 

“Brian, you are leaving one of the barbarians unbound in your tent. Have you taken leave of your senses?” Michaelo challenged. 

“My senses are firmly intact. Be happy that your body still is,” Brian snarled, pulling Michaelo away from the beam and forcefully shoved him out of the tent. 

All this time, Justin had remained on the ground, unmoving. Only when Michaelo was forced from the tent did he dare to sit up. He watched the other Roman warily, unsure of what was to come. Justin was quite startled by the look of concern on Brian’s face as he knelt down in front of him. 

“Did Michaelo hurt you?” Brian inquired, his eyes scanning Justin’s body for any sign of damage. 

Justin shook his head instinctively, a little thrown off by the question. “No harm done.” 

“Good,” Brian breathed out, nodding his head. He stood up then and held a hand out towards Justin. “I had not expected Michaelo to simply barge in here. He would normally have more sense than to do that.” 

Justin said nothing to that, but allowed Brian to help him to his feet. Once again, the Roman was acting far out of context. By all rights, he should have ordered Justin killed, yet for the second time in only a few hours he had defended him, perhaps even saved his life. 

“Emile, food,” Brian ordered, his hazel eyes locked on Justin’s own. 

Scratching idly at the bridge of his nose, Justin was the first to break the eye contact.


	3. Edge of the World

The confusion evident on the young Celt’s face was undoubtedly mirrored on Brian’s own. There was no logical reason to explain his behaviour, something which baffled him greatly. He should not have been behaving in the manner that he was yet, twice in only a short passage of time, he had protected Justin against Roman officers. He could not explain his actions logically, which meant they had been instinctual urges. 

Reactions that Brian had assumed he had rid himself of long ago. 

On some level, those reactions must have still existed within him else he would not defend Justin so readily. For despite his best attempts otherwise, Brian found himself inexplicably drawn to the tattooed Celt. More than he ever had with another person before. 

“Should Michaelo or any other attack you in such a manner, I would not fault you attempting to defend yourself,” Brian informed the smaller man as he removed his cloak. He slipped from his sandals as well so that he was once again barefoot, the soles of his feet soothed by the rich furs and carpets he stepped upon. “For while you are here against your will, it is not my desire for you to venture into the Otherworld.” 

As he spoke those words, Brian realized the absolute truth they contained. Not only did he not want to see Justin dead, but he wanted the boy to live a long life free from harm. 

“You would have me kill Romans?” Justin asked in disbelief. 

“Only in defense of your life,” Brian clarified. “Anything else and I would find myself on a barge with Chiron before the sun awoke again.” 

Justin smiled mirthlessly. “And I assume that I would already be there awaiting your arrival.” 

“Which is why I beg of you to curb any such desires unless necessity demands it,” the Roman was shocked to find himself pleading. 

Emile reappeared then, his lithe body all but gliding into the tent. Trailing awkwardly behind him was a young slave, his spindly arms laden with a tray piled high with foods. More food than Brian would eat during the course of three days. A fact which Emile knew quite well which led Brian to only one conclusion; that his servant was already quite taken with the young Celt. An occurrence which Brian did not find all that unusual for Emile was quite fond of strays. 

“You have outdone yourself,” Brian said to Emile as the servant cleared away a spot on one of the man cluttered tables for the mountainous tray of food to be set. 

Emile grinned openly at the comment. “It is not every day that we have such an interest guest, my master. And, begging your pardon, your slender frame would not suffer from more nourishment.” 

Emile was one of the few who could get away with a comment such as that and though he knew he should reprimand the servant, Brian’s response was nothing but a lightning quick smile. He had become accustomed, over the years, to Emile’s mothering nature. Without his loving sister to look after him, the task of ensuring that he was looked after was left up to Emile. It was often only as a result of his gentle nagging that Brian remembered to eat or sleep most days. That allowed the Greek a certain amount of freedom. 

“Were it up to you, Emile, I would possess the gut of an aged, gluttonous senator,” Brian quipped, snatching up a goblet of wine from his desk. “They’d be apt to rolling me into battle, armor and all.” 

“It would take a great deal more than one meal to add meat to your bones,” was Emile’s immediate retort. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Brian caught a flicker of a smile on Justin’s face. It was gone so fast that Brian couldn’t be sure that he had seen it, but he knew that it had been there. 

“I hope the gods have blessed you with a healthy appetite,” Brian said to Justin as he yanked a small section of bread off a larger loaf. “For despite Emile’s lofty plans, I have no intention of eating more than my normal fill.” 

“Perhaps the boy will be able to entice you.” 

Despite his best intentions, Brian could feel his eyebrows momentarily shoot upwards in search of his hairline. 

“I am sure there is little I can offer him in way of enticement,” Justin mumbled, his eyes trained on the ground. 

Emile breezed past him on his way towards the back of the tent and murmured, loud enough for Brian to hear, “Oh I would not be quite so sure, my boy.” 

Brian followed Emile’s departure with his eyes, shaking his head in mirth. Though he liked to believe that he was sly and cunning, Brian could see through the other man’s motives as though through an open window. 

“If you are wise, you will ignore Emile’s ceaseless plotting,” Brian called after the servant even though his words were directed at Justin who once again flashed him a brief smile. 

“You have a great affection for him,” the Celt offered, his tone relaying the surprising truth he found in his words. 

Brian raised his goblet in a silent toast to the absent servant. “I have a great respect for Emile after having put up with me for so many years. It is a wonder that he has not killed me in my sleep.” At Justin’s wary look, Brian smiled genially. “Fear not. I am not some horrid task master. Quite the opposite if what Emile says can be believed.” 

“He thinks very high of you,” Justin told him as he picked idly at the food. 

“And what of you? Has your opinion of me changed any?” the soldier asked as casually as could be managed, his eyes resting on the blonde for only a moment. 

Justin was silent for a full moment before deciding upon an answer. “I do not think it is possible to come to a set opinion of you, Roman.” 

While he was pleased with the answer, for it seemed that Justin did not completely despise him, there was still an aspect of his response that bothered him. Justin’s constant refer to him as “Roman.” To most, the world was a welcome one upon which they prided themselves. In Brian’s mind, it was akin to an insult. Having been raised in the intellectual splendor of Greece, the savagery of the Romans often disgusted him. His mother had been an Athenian, home of the greatest poets, playwrights and philosophers to ever walk the earth. And though he had grown into manhood in the more warlike Sparta, it was the more intellectual side of his heritage that Brian felt more at home with. 

“You need not address me in such a manner. My name is Brian and I would appreciate you using it,” Brian said quietly, trying not to turn his words into an order. 

“Such a thing is not permitted,” Justin mumbled, not meeting Brian’s eyes. 

“It is if I desire it to be,” Brian stated, his eyes never wavering from the bright head. 

“Why?” was the only word that Justin was able to impart. 

“For the same reason I am sure you would prefer me not to refer to you as barbarian.” 

Justin’s silence spoke volumes. 

Leaving the conversation at that, Brian retrieved two nearby stools and brought them over to the table so that he and Justin could relax and still remain within reach of the food. At least that had been his original intention. Before the passing of a single hour, both men had reclined on the thick furs and blankets, the tray of food set between them. For the most part, conversation was almost non-existent, both men comfortable in the silence. 

For the most part it had been Brian who broke the spells of silence that fell between them, making either an idle comment or asking a question. Whether Justin would answer the question or not was unknown until the smaller man would actually respond. More often than not, the young Celt did give an answer to Brian’s questions. From his answers, Brian learned that Justin had lived eighteen summers, that he was the eldest of two surviving children and that his father was one of his tribe’s most respected elders among other various facts. 

In turn, Brian shred parts of his personal history. As much as he was willing to. There were some aspects of his life that Brian would never utter to a living soul. Pieces that he longed to erase from existence. At the very least his mind’s own recollection of them. 

Throughout the meal, Brian was aware of a hesitance in Justin. Time and again he appeared as though he would ask a question and yet every time would fall silent before a single sound passed from between his lips. Each time he would notice Justin about to speak, he would fall silent, waiting patiently for the blonde to speak. Brian was beginning to think that he never would when Justin finally seemed to gather his nerves. 

“The marks on your back.... What was the cause of them?” 

With the sentence barely out of the other man’s mouth, Brian found himself unconsciously shrugging his shoulders. He was well aware of what marks Justin was asking about. The same marks that had scarred his back since he was seventeen. 

“I am asking things to which I have no right, I apologize,” Justin murmured, staring into his wine. 

Scars caused by his own mother. 

“No need to apologize,” Brian assured him, stabbing a small knife into the remnants of the fowl they had been devouring. “I am being overly sensitive. It is an occasional fault of mine. Had I seen such scars on your back I would have been curious as well.” 

“Still, you need not answer--” 

“Maenads,” Brian said quickly, interrupting Justin before he could convince himself otherwise. “Female worshippers of the god Dionysus. I happened upon one of their frenzied orgies when I was your age. Before I was even aware of what I was seeing, I was surrounded by the group. The women were savage, tearing at my body with their fingers, knives... even sticks. Had I not managed to escape them, they would have torn the flesh from my body. As you can tell, I did not manage to evade them completely free of harm.” 

The revelation rendered Justin speechless once again. He stared at Brian with undisguised shock, his mouth working without benefit of sound. Suddenly at odds, Brian bounded to his feet in a single motion and began to pace the interior of the tent as Justin watched on. 

“I’ll ask you not to reveal that information to another soul,” Brian instructed, bringing an entire flagon of wine to his lips. He swallowed several mouthfuls of the liquid, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth to erase any evidence from his lips. “The only ones who know the truth of the incident are Emile, my sister... and now you.” 

The younger man’s shock only seemed to grow with this new information. Had he been thinking with a clear head at that moment, Brian’s reaction would have been the same. He didn’t even know the boy yet he was sharing one of his most closely guarded secrets with him. Everyone who had seen his back just assumed that the scars were the result of a brawl and when he was questioned directly that was the response he gave. However, without even trying, Justin had managed to illicit the truth from him. 

“The Greek-- the one who taught me to speak your tongue --I remember him speaking of such creatures,” came Justin’s voice from his place on the floor. “How the women would take leave of their senses and become animal-like in fierceness. He said that even a god would find it difficult to free himself from their bloodlust. Yet you stand before me as only a god should be fortunate enough to.” 

“I am aware of what you are hinting at and you are quite mistaken,” Brian said as he dropped back onto the floor across from the blonde. “I am as mortal as you.” 

“Were that true I would not be here,” Justin protested, his eyes trained on the floor as though he were suddenly afraid of looking at Brian. “I would be tied to a post in the mud, hoping that your fellow soldiers paid enough attention to me to keep me fed and alive, but not enough to use me for their entertainment. That is how your fellow Romans treat my people. You are quite unlike your comrades so you leave me no choice but to assume that you are not as you claim to be.” 

Brian stared at Justin’s bowed head, uneasy about the Celt’s assumptions. He was no god, not even a demi-god for both his parents were mortals; his father a Roman officer and his mother an Athenian noblewoman. Neither Dionysus, Zeus or Apollo had visited his mother during the night, conceiving him. Nor had a goddess bore him from his father’s seed. 

Since Justin would not believe his words, Brian decided upon actions. Taking a dagger sheathed at his waist, Brian brought the point to the inside of his left forearm. Brian pursed his lips as he dragged the blade across his flesh, leaving a bloody groove in its wake. 

“While I do not know the vulnerability of your gods, mine are immune from injury. They do not bleed,” Brian revealed, holding out his bleeding arm for Justin to see. “As you can see, I do.” 

Justin gasped at the sight of the blood and automatically reached out, cradling Brian’s wounded forearm in his hands. “You need not injure yourself simply to prove your words to me.” 

His point proven, Brian attempted to ease his arm from Justin’s grasp. The blonde refused to relinquish his hold on Brian’s arm, instead surveying their surroundings for something to use in order to staunch the wound. Coming across a rumpled under tunic only a short distance away, Justin grabbed that and, more tenderly than Brian would have expected, began to wipe away the bloody trails which streaked across his tanned skin. 

“The wound is not a deep one,” Justin announced once he had cleaned away all traces of blood. “It has already stopped bleeding. That does not excuse the foolishness of the action.” 

“It is barely more than a scratch,” Brian protested, flinching slightly as he flexed the muscles in his forearm. “Hardly noticeable at all.” 

Justin gave him a withered look. “That would only be believable had you not just started up the bleeding once again. Do you have any bandages nearby that could properly be used to staunch the wound?” 

“Emile!” Brian called over his shoulder. “Retrieve your medicine box for me. I’ve had a minor mishap.” 

At the last comment, Justin snorted quietly. He tentatively raised his head, meeting Brian’s gaze with a slight smile. Justin continued to hold Brian’s arm, by this time cradling it in the “V” created by his upraised knees. Brian noted that his touch was incredibly light, the feathering movements of his fingertips drawing his attention away from the pain that the wound should have caused. 

As the curtain separating the rest of the tent from the outer area where they were fluttered open, Justin immediately dropped his knees. He held fast to Brian’s arm so that it would not be jarred by the sudden movement. Emile appeared almost immediately then, taking charge of Brian’s injured arm. 

Brian kept his gaze locked on Justin as Emile tended to his arm. The Celt backed away immediately upon the servant’s entrance, giving the pair a vast leeway in which to work. Brian was tempted to halt Justin’s retreat, but knew that it was pointless. Whatever accord had been reached between them only minutes before had been lost upon Emile’s appearance. 

Sighing audibly, Brian scrubbed the fingers of his free hand through his hair out of irritation. While he still maintained that his earlier action had been necessary in order to convince Justin of his non-deification, the end result, in particular Emile’s appearance, was one which he would have rather done without. 

His goblet of wine still within reach, Brian raised the heavy silver glass to his lips and downed the remainder of its contents in a single gulp. “You have prepared a place for Justin to sleep, I assume,” Brian gasped as he set the goblet down beside him. It was a needless question knowing Emile the way he did. 

“Our young guest will be sleeping on a pallet next to mine,” Emile said as he finished tying the bandage around Brian’s forearm. “I would suggest you wear a tunic with long sleeves tomorrow else you’ll raise suspicions against the boy.” 

Suspicions, Brian knew, would be raised regardless of whether any beheld the injury. Justin’s presence in his tent alone accomplished that. 

As he gazed at Justin who was idly fingering the great bear fur he sat upon, Brian came to the decision that he did not care what was said about him in regards to Justin. The choices he had made were his own and he would not alter them unless it was of his own violation.


	4. Edge of the World

After nearly a week of sharing an existence with the Roman, Justin’s confusion had only seemed to increase. There were many more moments that he would have expected when Justin could easily forget that he was being held prisoner. Except for brief meetings that Brian had with various other commanders, Justin was able to move about the massive tent and do as he pleased. 

“You are aware that these maps your armies are using are entirely incorrect,” Justin said without looking up from the scrolls in front of him when he heard Brian enter. 

“I assume that it would be too much to hope that you would consider remedying the inaccuracies?” 

A wide, devilish smile was the only response he received. 

“How foolish of me,” Brian smirked, stretching out on the ground next to Justin. “How about a small hint? A minute one.” 

Justin stared down at the map for a moment before pointing to a small river. “That does not exist.” 

Brian leaned over to see the river in question, a frown creasing his brows. “There’s no river there? Are you certain? I was sure there was a river there.” 

“I have lived in this area my entire life, Roman,” Justin pointed out with a smirk. “I know more about it than you could ever hope to.” 

Chuckling quietly, Brian laid down the rest of his way, slipping his hands behind his head as a cushion. He was silent then, his eyes closed as he relaxed after a long day. Without having to leave tent, Justin was fully aware of how busy the Roman’s days were. His near exhaustion daily upon returning to the tent. According to Emile, for Brian would not often speak of himself, the Roman was a commander and spent the day training and conditioning those who served under him. 

“Could you get me some wine,” Brian rasped out, opening one eye to stare at up at Justin. “My throat feels dry as an African desert.” 

Rising from the array of scrolls that surrounded him, Justin moved over to the table that held a flagon of wine Emile always kept on the ready. He also dipped a cloth in the ewer of water on the same table, dropping it on Brian’s face and startling the other man. 

“Had I the energy I would make you regret that action,” Brian grumbled, staring up at Justin with a lopsided grin. “As it is, I thank you for the wet rag. My skin appreciates the chance to be free of grime once again.” 

While Justin sat down, still clutching the goblet of wine in his right hand staring at the other man as he wiped the mud and sweat from his face. Able to wash his face, arms, neck and hands from his current position, Brian did just that. When that was no longer enough, Brian sat up and removed his tunic, leaving his leggings in place until he rose to his feet. 

As he did whenever the Roman walked around without his clothing, Justin gazed at him covertly, admiring the lithe body. Long years of battle had hardened his body, yet the movement of his muscles was remarkably fluid. The hard edges only adding to his inherent beauty. Leaning over the ewer to splash more of the lightly scented water onto his body, the muscles in his back stretched and twisted with his movements. 

“I hope my nakedness does not make you squeamish,” Brian commented as he dried his body before slipped into his robe Emile had silently provided. 

Assuming he had been caught staring, Justin felt his face flush and he immediately looked away. “It hardly matters what I feel on the subject.” 

“It could matter more than you think it would,” Brian informed the blonde who still sat on the ground. “The answer to my question?” 

“The answer is no. Nakedness does not make me feel squeamish,” Justin responded, lifting his eyes to Brian’s curious gaze. “Should it?” 

The final comment earned him a wry smile from the soldier. “It could be to your advantage,” he murmured cryptically. 

Justin was caught off guard by the Brian’s statement, but was given no time to react as another Roman entered the tent. He was automatically on guard, ready to play the role of the docile slave should the need arise. For the most part he was ignored, but there were a few of the other commanders and generals who would pay acute attention to his every move, searching out an excuse to disqualify Brian’s decision to have him remain in his tent, unbound and virtually unguarded. 

“Brian, Justin,” Benvolio, one of Brian’s closest friends, greeted as he entered the tent. 

Unlike the rest of the officers who noticed his presence, Benvolio was like Brian in that he treated Justin as an equal rather than a slave. 

“Is there something amiss?” Brian inquired, staring intently at his comrade. He did not wait for an answer before shouting for Emile to bring him a clean tunic and leggings. 

“I fear that something is terribly amiss,” Benvolio affirmed, slumping down onto a nearby stool. “Michaelo.” 

Brian seemed almost amused by the revelation. “Michaelo? What has the whelp done now?” 

With a sad smile, Benvolio glanced over at Justin for a moment before turning his full attention to Brian. “Convinced Caesar that Justin has used strange foreign magics to entice you to aid the Celts. I do believe that Caesar is on his way here as I speak these words to take Justin into his possession.” 

“Almighty Zeus,” Brian cursed under his breath as he fastened a heavy leather belt about his slender waist. 

From his place on the floor, Justin clenched his hands tightly, willing away the incredible unease he felt pooling in his stomach. Caesar would not be as lenient as Brian for, to Rome’s top general, Justin was nothing more than a conquered man and would think nothing of killing him should he not give him the information he wanted. 

“I think you know what must be done,” Benvolio spoke up, breaking the heavy silence that fell between the men. 

Brian shook his head furiously as he paced across the confined interior of the tent. “No. I gave my word, Benvolio. I will not go against it. We will simply find some other way to convince Caesar that Michaelo’s words are false.” 

“There is no time, Brian. It must be done,” Benvolio insisted emphatically. 

Aware of what the two men were speaking of, Justin rose slowly to his feet, squaring his shoulders. “I release you from your vow, Brian. It is something that must be done.” 

His words did nothing to reassure Brian who continued to stalk in tight circles. “I can not allow this,” the hazel-eyed man insisted, coming to a stop before the other two. 

“Well we can not make him disappear,” Emile spoke up, appearing in the main part of the tent for the first time since Benvolio’s arrival. “Too many are aware of his presence, my master. Benvolio and Justin are correct in suggesting Justin be bound and treated as an ordinary prisoner.” 

“I want no part in this,” Brian declared as he made a quick retreat to the back of the tent. “Do as you will.” 

Brian’s blatant refusal to see him bound and condemned to be out of doors in the drizzle for, quite possibly an extended period of time, confused Justin. If he himself was consenting to the action, what reason could the Roman have to refuse? Something from Emile’s mannerisms told him that such an assumption was incorrect. There was an event, obviously of great magnitude, that Justin was unaware of. 

“You had best just ignore my master’s present mood,” Emile said to Justin as Benvolio led the Celt out of the tent. 

There was still a slight drizzle falling down upon the wet earth as they emerged from the tent. Benvolio led him around to the side of the structure, passing the two guards standing watch over the entrance without so much as a glance. 

“I am sorry to have to do this to you, Justin. Were there any other course of action I would have suggested it,” Benvolio apologized, cutting a length of rope that lay useless on the ground. 

The blonde smiled slightly then turned his back to the other man, clasping his hands behind his back. “An apology is unnecessary. I am doing this willingly. The one regret I have is Brian’s reaction to my decision.” 

“Brian’s reaction has to do with something from his past,” Benvolio informed him as he began to knot the soaked and muddied rope around Justin’s wrists. “Something which he will have to tell you for himself for I can not.” 

Benvolio’s words hung heavy in Justin’s mind as the other man disappeared back into the tent. While there was much of Brian’s life that Justin knew nothing about, what he did know was that Brian’s life had not been an easy one. There had been a great deal of pain in his life and what Benvolio had hinted at was only one more event which had shaped Brian into the man he had become. 

A man who confused Justin more than any other living soul had. 

It did not surprise Justin in the least when the rain began to fall harder only minutes after Benvolio re-entered the tent. Not long after he caught sight of the renowned Caesar heading towards Brian’s tent with a throng of soldiers following after him. Justin himself went unnoticed by the other Romans which was just as well. The longer he remained as an afterthought, the safer he was. 

There was no way he could remain an afterthought permanently. Justin was not foolish enough to believe such a thing was possible. 

So he did his utmost to appear the subdued and broken prisoner Caesar and his companions were looking for when they were led by Benvolio to the side of the tent where he sat hunched in the rain and mud. 

“This is the creature Michaelo envisions to be a threat?” Caesar demanded as he stared down at Justin whose head was bowed towards the ground. “This drowned Celtic rat? I find that impossible to believe.” 

“An impossibility, Caesar,” Benvolio spoke up in Justin’s defense. “There is no evidence to support Michaelo’s claims. He simply wishes to undermine Brian’s newfound authority.” 

“The most likely scenario,” Caesar agreed. “Trollius, I want you to ensure that Michaelo is properly reprimanded for his accusations. I will not have my soldiers causing problems in my army. We must be a united front against the Celts.” 

“Yes, Caesar,” the gathered men said together. 

More orders were given and received, all of them spoken directly in front of Justin as though he were not there. More of an afterthought than anything else, Justin realized that they could speak in front of him as though he were not really there. To the extent of their knowledge, Justin could not speak their language. At that point in time, only Brian, Emile and Benvolio were aware of his ability to speak both Latin and Greek. Three people out of an army of thousands that knew his secret. 

As a group, the soldiers filed away, leaving Justin alone once again. He released a quiet sigh at their retreat, leaning back against the post behind him. Justin tilted his head upwards, allowing the rain fall down upon his upturned face, washing away his earlier fear. While he was fully aware that he was not yet out of danger, that he would never be completely out of danger, but for the moment he was safe. 

Unsure of what was to happen next, Justin leaned back against the post he was tied to and prepared himself for a night out in the rain. It would not be the first time he had been stuck out of doors on a rainy night. It would, however, he the first time that he had been tied to a heavy post sunk deep into the mud. 

“This is not the place for you.” 

The voice caught Justin off guard. His entire body jerked, his head cracking against the post behind him. He had not expected Brian to appear so soon after Caesar’s departure. Justin moaned quietly as the pain radiated through his skull while Brian hurried released him from his bonds. 

The moment that his hands were free, Justin brought a hand to the back of his head, attempting to relieve the pain. While he continued to hold his head, Brian wrapped an arm around Justin’s waist and helped the smaller man to his feet. 

“Come, you must be chilled through,” Brian said quietly as he guided Justin towards a side entrance of the tent which was being held open by Emile. 

Justin huddled as close to Brian as possible, attempting to steal some warmth from the other man’s body. It was a futile effort until they ventured into the tent where lit braziers heated the interior space. 

“My dear boy,” Emile lamented as he caught sight of Justin’s soaked and shuddering form. He had a large, thick blanket in his hands which he wrapped around Justin’s shoulders as soon as the two men entered the tent. “You must have something warm to drink to take away the chill. Take off those horridly soaked clothes for you will never warm yourself dressed in them.” 

As he stood shivering in the center of the tent, the warm blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Justin found his eyes riveted to the top of Brian’s dark head as the Roman knelt before him. He could feel Brian’s hands sliding up the sides of his legs then across his ships where they met at the drawstrings that held his pants in place. Having been out in the rain himself, there were rivulets of water sliding down Brian’s exposed neck, disappearing beneath the collar of his tunic. With slow, calculated movements, Brian unfastened the leather thongs and slid the breeches over Justin’s hips and down his legs so that he stood naked except for the blanket. 

At Emile’s insistence, Justin was covered with warm blankets and plied with a goblet of heated wine to remove the chill that went deep into his bones. Through it all, Justin remained focused on the constant expression on Brian’s face. The sorrow and pain that the Roman was attempting to mask to no avail. 

Pain and sorrow that Justin was responsible for. 

At least in part having been the one to force the situation Brian would have avoided. 

The reasoning behind which Justin still did not know. He would not force the information from Brian. It was his to give freely or not. 

“Caesar will not bother you again,” Brian promised, staring at Justin from under his lowered lids. “You are safe as long as you are here.” 

Justin smiled softly, wrapping the blanket tighter around his still trembling body. “I know.” 

“I am sorry for allowing what happened earlier to occur,” the Roman continued. 

“The decision was mine,” Justin assured him. “I am quite sorry, however, that my decision has caused you any amount of pain.” 

Brian smiled wanly. “Not pain. Only the regret of old memories that I can not wash away completely.”


	5. Edge of the World

It was something that should have never come to be. On which he could and should have prevented. Yet it had still come to pass. He had allowed Justin to be placed in a situation he had sworn he would never consent to. At least not willingly, which he had not been. It was Benvolio and Justin himself that had brought it about. 

While Justin knew nothing of what had happened in the past, Benvolio did. He had been there and witnessed it firsthand. 

“If there had been any other course of action I would have chosen it,” Justin told him, his voice wavering slightly as he shook with cold. 

“I know,” Brian assured the shivering blonde as he dropped yet another blanket over his shoulders. It would do no good for him to catch a chill. Aside from the physical toll it would take on Justin, Brian’s conscience would not permit it. “The fact remains that it did happen and I must now remedy it.” 

Justin rolled his eyes heavenward and reached a hand out to Brian, urging him down beside him. “There is nothing that requires remedying. Not by you. I was the one to wrong you, Brian, and for that I am truly sorry.” 

There was no denying the shock that Justin’s statement caused. In complete contrast to what Brian had been expecting, the Celt was the one reassuring him. The man who had caused him pain. It confused Brian and he could do nothing but drop down next to Justin when the blonde gave his arm a slight tug. 

Brian stared down at the patterned rug below him before lifting his gaze to Justin’s face. His eyes focused on the blue-tinged lips. Lips the same colour and hue as those he’d seen on corpses that littered battlefields. Bodies of friends and comrades that had been killed before his very eyes. Killed because of him and his own foolish pride. 

With a shaking hand, Brian reached out and ran the tip of his finger along Justin’s lower lip. A relief that he couldn’t even begin to describe filled him when the tip of Justin’s tongue poked out to brush against his finger. 

“You did what you had to,” Justin assured him, lifting a hand to Brian’s arm and squeezing slightly. “No one could hold it against you. I certainly do not.” 

“You should,” Brian protested, dropping his arm down onto his lap. “It is in your right.” 

“Are you always this infuriating, Roman?” Justin smirked, lifting the goblet to his lips to drain the remainder of the heated wine. 

As he expected was the smaller man’s intention, a slight smile appeared on Brian’s face. He scratched a hand through his hair, staring unobtrusively at Justin, relieved to see a slight flush creeping into his cheeks as the heat finally began to seep into his chilled limbs. 

“Would it be too presumptuous for me to ask why you were so against having me treated as a slave?” Justin asked quietly, his gaze dropping to the empty goblet he still held in his hands. 

Brian felt himself tensing at the question. His actions had to be confusing the boy and knowing Benvolio as well as he did, he was certain that the other man had not revealed the sordid details of his past. One that he could not run away from no matter what deals he tried to make with the gods to erase it. 

“I have been in the same position you are now,” Brian revealed with a loud sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face. “In Gaul. It was... it was a waking nightmare. One which still haunts me in my sleep.” 

In that moment it was all that Brian could reveal. He was not ready to bring it all out into the open. The mere thought of it caused bile to rise in his throat and his body to shake. At some point he was quite certain that he would tell Justin of what had happened if only to rid himself of the demons that had plagued him for months. 

“You survived,” Justin said quietly, laying a hand on Brian’s thigh. “Little else is of any consequence outside of that fact. The gods saw fit for you to survive.” 

“But at what cost?” Brian sighed loudly, his shoulders slumping. 

“All events are brought about for a reason,” Justin insisted, his eyes boring into Brian’s, provoking no argument. 

Had he not felt so utterly drained, Brian would have argued his case further. Though the blonde was no stranger to battle, a war on the Roman scale was something completely different. Much more savage, brutal and bloody. All of his training in his youth had done little to prepare Brian for his years at war. 

Rising slowly to his feet, Justin held a hand down to Brian. “Come. You are in desperate need of sleep.” 

Brian smirked, but allowed himself to be pulled up. “It is I who should be looking after you rather than the other way round.” 

“I have been worse off,” Justin said as he guided Brian towards the back of the tent where his sleeping quarters were. “I have lived my entire life in this area. Quite the opposite for you, I’m afraid.” 

Having dismissed Emile for the night, Brian was not surprised to see his bed turned down and readied for him. Though he had spent only moments in the rain in comparison to Justin, Brian felt chilled to the bone and intended sleep fully clothed rather than naked as was his custom. Only Justin seemed to have other plans in mind. 

“What are you doing?” Brian asked softly as Justin began to unfasten his belt. 

Justin shrugged his shoulders slightly, one side of the blanket falling down. “Returning a favour. Now hush and let me.” 

There was something in Justin’s eyes which kept him from protesting. A look which he could not quite distinguish, but that bolstered him for the night to come. He allowed his gaze to remain fixed on Justin as the Celt tenderly removed his clothing, smoothing hands over muscles when a tremor would overtake them. 

Brian did not protest until Justin began to move away. To another part of the tent far away from where Brian himself slept. In that moment, Brian could not bear to be parted from Justin. He wanted the blonde to stay within arm’s length of him at all times. Closer even. 

“Stay,” Brian said, lightly grabbing hold of Justin’s elbow. 

Justin stared at him in confusion. “My pallet is through there. This room is yours.” 

“And I want you in here,” Brian murmured, his eyes staring deeply into the blue ones that he had become transfixed with over the past few days. “For tonight. You seem to have this impeccable way of chasing away my demons and I fear this night I will be in dire need of that service.” 

“You are quite an enigma, Roman,” Justin said with a smile and did not attempt to shy away as Brian sat down on his narrow bed and pulled him closer. 

It took some careful arranging, but in the end the two were able to fit on the narrow camp bed, their bodies pressed tight together to prevent either from falling out. And, for what felt like the first time in a lifetime, Brian slept peacefully. And felt surprisingly refreshed the next morning when he awake with Justin’s head tucked under his chin. Brian pressed his face into Justin’s hair, letting out a deep sigh of contentment. For months he had felt as though he were at war with the entire world, but so long as he was around Justin he felt calm and quite at peace. 

“You know that it is not wise to become so attached to the boy.” 

Lifting his head, Brian met Emile’s concerned gaze and gave a half-hearted shrug. “I fear that I have no choice in the matter.” 

“Then you plan on bringing the boy with you when we depart?” Emile questioned as he relit a brazier that had gone out at some point during the night. 

“No,” Brian sighed, his head sinking back into the pillow. “Justin’s home is here and I will not force him from it.” 

“Even if he would willingly follow?” 

In his sleep, Justin shifted slightly himself still closer to Brian. 

“Even then.” 

Emile disappeared then and Brian allowed his body to relax again so that he was on the border of sleep and wakefulness. He focused his mind on the steady beating of the other man’s heart, willing it to lull him back into sleep. 

“Brian!” 

Sighing, Brian eased himself out of his bed, reluctantly separating himself from Justin’s earth. He slipped into his robe and took a final look at Justin before stalking into the main area of the tent. It was no surprise to him that Benvolio had arrived so early in the day. The events of the previous night had more or less assured it. 

“What has been done about Michaelo?” Brian demanded at the sight of his friend. 

A smile flickered momentarily across Benvolio’s face. “It seems that Caesar has decreed that he should spend the next six months gathering our dead from the field and preparing them for the pyres. He hopes that you approve of the punishment as you were the one wronged.” 

“Justin was the one wronged,” Brian corrected him, reaching down to pick up one of the Celt’s discarded armbands from the ground. He turned it over in his hands, closely examining the intricate carvings in the tough leather. “I will not have it happen again. I will do whatever I must to prevent it.” 

“There is only so much you can do,” the other soldier pointed out, taking the armband from Brian’s unresponsive hands. “You are not a god.” 

“I never claimed to be one,” Brian said with a wry smile. 

A short while later, while Justin still slept, Brian and Benvolio left the tent in order to confront Michaelo. Brian wanted answers. He wanted to know what Michaelo sought to gain by accusing Brian of siding with the Celts. It would do nothing to endear him in Brian’s eyes. Quite the opposite, in fact. Anyone who attempted to take Justin from him would sorely regret the action. 

“Are you sure this is the wisest course?” Benvolio questioned as he neared the area of the camp where Michaelo resided. “Will you be able to hold your temper in check?” 

“I care not whether I am able to control my temper or not,” Brian growled, his anger coming to the fore as he caught sight of a familiar figure. “Michaelo!” 

The man in questioned stilled completely. He lifted his head, slowly swiveling his body around to face Brian who was bearing in on him like an avenging Fury. Any intentions he had had of remaining calm when confronting the smaller man vanished upon sight of him. The smug, self-satisfied expression, as though what he had done the night before was of no consequence. 

“You look vexed, Brian,” Michaelo said with an almost absent air. “Is something amiss?” 

Brian inhaled deeply through his nose, willing himself to calm else he was likely to shove the point of his sword deep into Michaelo’s chest. 

“What did you hope to gain by accusing me of siding with the Celts?” Brian breathed out in an angry hiss. 

“I am still not entirely convinced that it is not the truth,” Michaelo told him, the smugness returning. “You are far too comfortable with the barbarian. Leaving him free to roam within your tent. Who’s to say that he hasn’t memorized all of the maps and scrolls you have lying around and is merely waiting for the proper opportunity to escape and give the information to his people so that they can destroy us.” 

“Does Caesar know you have already decided the Celt’s victory over us?” Benvolio spoke up, sneering at the smaller man. 

An angry glare which Michaelo returned immediately. “I would not need to make such an assumption were our fine general here not sharing such close quarters with his barbarian. It is surprising that he has not slit your throat while you sleep.” 

In the blink of an eye, Brian had Michaelo by the front of his tunic, dagger pressed tight to his throat. “If there is anyone who is to have their throat slit, it will be you. I have warned you before to stay away from him and this is the final time you will receive a warning, Michaelo. Next time you shall find yourself contending with Cerberus in the Underworld.” 

The venom laced into his words had Michaelo’s eyes filling with fear. Brian shoved the smaller man away from his so suddenly that Michaelo stumbled, tripping over spit uprooted in the ground and tumbling down into the mud. With a final growl, Brian turned and stalked away, uncaring whether or not Benvolio followed him. 

Too wound up by this point to be of any use to himself or anyone else, Brian went in search of his horse, a beautiful Spanish creature called Achilles. Black as the midnight sky and with a temper to match his own. 

Mere minutes passed and Brian was racing into the unknown. Into dense forests that he did not know and instantly lost himself in. Brian rode out past the perimeter of sentries and into an area which the Celts had full control of. At any moment natives of the island could have appeared behind the ancient trees and he would find himself in the same situation as Justin. 

Worse off since the Celts would not be kind to one of the invaders intent on conquering them. 

And in that moment, Brian would have welcomed it. 

He would be able to purge himself of the memory of Justin bound to the post, rain pounding down upon him. Create new memories, even, of the horrors he had survived only months before at the hands of a tribe of Celts near to Germania. 

Allowing his horse to come to a stop at the edge of a wide clearing, Brian stared down at his forearm and the still-healing wound he had created a week before. Further up, closer to his elbow, was another scar. An older one. 

Brian could still envision watching his blood leaking from the gash, downward, into an earthen wear chalice held by a frightening woman covered in tattoos so that barely any hint of her actual skin tone was visible though she wore no clothing that he could discern. 

“Brian!” 

At the sound of Benvolio’s voice, Brian covered the scar with the palm of his opposite hand. 

“Here, Benvolio.” 

Gave his arm a hard squeeze then dropped his hand back to his side. 

“Have you taken leave of your senses?” Benvolio demanded as he rode up beside Brian who had yet to move from his place. “Are you eager to once again find yourself at the hands of the Celts? At their mercy?” 

Brian’s shoulders slumped and he at last turned to his friend. “I would deserve it, would I not? We are no better than them. Worse, perhaps, for we are the ones invading their world.” 

“Whether you believe these words or not, Brian, you must not speak them aloud,” Benvolio warned as he placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “There is never any telling who is listening.” 

“Have you not noticed, Benvolio? We are at the hands of the Celts at this very moment,” Brian laughed mirthlessly. “Roman influence has not ventured this far into the wilds.” 

“All the more reason for us to return to camp,” Benvolio pressed, attempting to steer Brian back in the direction he had originally come. “It is dangerous to be here without armed guard.” 

Throwing his head back, Brian let out a loud scream which echoed off into the treetops. He screamed until his throat was raw and no sound passed through without effort. 

“Let them come for me. Let the demons come,” Brian rasped out, turning his wild eyes on Benvolio. 

There was a faint rustling of leaves behind him. 

His horse stomped its feet irritably. 

And Brian found himself pitching towards the ground an incredible agony radiating from his left shoulder. 

The woosh of the arrow came only afterwards. Almost as though it were an afterthought. 

Then the demons descended.


	6. Edge of the World

The moment he had awoken to find Brian gone from the tent, Justin had known that something was terribly wrong. He had felt that conviction deep within himself and none of Emile’s assurances could dissuade him of that fact. Being confined within the tent only added to Justin’s unease for he could not seek out those who would be able to tell him where Brian was or what he was doing. 

While Emile busied himself in the back, Justin crept towards the entrance where the guards stood, hoping that their conversation would reveal at least some of what was occurring. At the very least clue him in as to where Brian had disappeared to. If he but knew, Justin would not have been so frightened for the other man. 

“I have told you already that none know where Brian and Benvolio are,” Emile said quietly as he appeared in the main area of the tent. “They spoke with Michaelo and then were gone. No one saw them after that save one sentry who happened to catch sight of Brian charging into the forest. Benvolio followed moments after. This is all the information available as you know quite well, Justin.” 

Snaking his fingers of his right hand into his hair. “I am aware, Emile, though it does not help my frame of mind. I have a dread feeling that something is horribly wrong.” 

“I have known Brian for many years, Justin, and I can assure you that he is capable of caring for himself,” Emile told him, stepping up to Justin and guiding him away from the tent’s entrance. 

Justin took one final look at the opening before allowing Emile to lead him over to the chest that contained various scrolls. The scrolls were all writings done by ancient Greeks centuries before. Plays by Sophocles, Aristophanes, Euripides and the complete philosophical works of Plato and Aristotle, not to mention various histories. For the past week Justin had spent his days pouring over the contents of the various scrolls to keep himself occupied while Brian spent his time training his legion. 

“Busy your mind and the time will pass quickly,” Emile advised, handing him a scroll containing Aristophanes’ The Birds. “Brian will return. He always does.” 

His assurances did little to calm Justin’s nerves, the comedic play doing even less. He was all too aware of Brian’s absence to concentrate on the words meticulously scribed on the parchment in his hands. 

Finally, having had enough of sitting still on the plush carpets, Justin bounded to his feet, the scroll falling to the ground, forgotten. He stalked to Brian’s personal store of weapons and drew out his own confiscated swords. 

“Justin, do not do anything rash,” Emile advised nervously. “If you were to get yourself killed you will be of no help to Brian.” 

A brief smile crossed Justin’s face as he lovingly caressed the battered blade. “You need not fear, Emile. I will not leave the confines of this tent. It is only that I can not remain still any longer else lose my hold on sanity.” 

Once he had cleared a large enough area, Justin began the solitary motions of his practices that would take place within a circle of elms close to his home. In the beginning, his movements were slow and languid, his muscles shifting seamlessly from one position to the next without the slightest hesitation. Then, as his body became accustomed to performing the actions, he sped up as though fighting an invisible battle with a multitude of airy combatants. All thoughts fled from Justin’s mind, his body moving without conscious thought. 

Until a pained cry broke through the misty haze that surrounded his mind. 

“Brian,” Justin gasped, his sword falling from suddenly nerveless fingers and tumbling to the ground. 

Taking a cautious step deeper into the mist, Justin’s eyes locked instantly on Brian’s form, the other man lying huddled on the ground, bloody hand held to his chest. Wordlessly Justin bounded forward, his mind only vaguely aware of the fact that he was passing through trees and approaching warriors as though they were not even there. There was a wildness to Brian’s eyes that Justin noticed immediately as he dropped to his knees beside the fallen Roman. 

Reaching out slowly, unsure of whether his touch would cause pain or not, Justin attempted to brush his fingertips across the sweaty cheek. 

And in the moment his fingers would have made contact with the heated flesh, the vision faded to leave Justin staring at ornate box which contained earth from Brian’s home. Justin let out a shuddering breath, his entire body shaking as a result of the vivid vision. He more or less toppled onto his rear and very nearly ended up collapsing completely. It was, by far, the most intense experience he had even endured. It felt immensely real to him, as though he had actually been out in the woods along side Brian. “What in the name of all the gods was that?” Emile cried as he knelt down next to Justin, placing a stabilizing hand on his shoulder. 

Still gasping, Justin allowed his upper body to fall forward, his forehead coming to rest atop the small wooden chest. 

As another scream echoed in his mind, Justin flinched and curled in on himself. “Nooo....” he moaned, trembling all the more as the memory of Brian’s scream continued in his mind. 

“Justin, are you all right?” Emile pressed, attempting to pull the Celt into a seated position. 

“Something is wrong. Something is very wrong,” Justin mumbled as he slowly moved onto his knees. 

He gouged his fingers into his hair, cringing as yet another cry reverberated within his skull. Unlike the previous one, however, the scream had an angry quality to it. It was almost a growl one would make in the heat of battle. 

“It is all that time you spent out in the rain last night,” Emile mumbled under his breath as he moved about the interior of the tent. “We should have gotten you indoors sooner.” 

Justin tried several times to contradict Emile’s rambles, but he had begun to shake so severely that he could force no sound between his lips. Staggering to his feet, eyes closed, Justin willed another of the visions to present itself. More prepared, he would be able to focus on the surrounding landscape and perhaps get an idea as to where Brian was at present. 

None came. 

The only vision Justin was privy to was the one of the inside of his eyelids. 

“I think that it would be best if you were to rest now,” Emile said as he gently wrapped Justin in a thick blanket and began to guide him towards the back of the tent. 

“I am well, Emile. Truly,” Justin protested, refusing to take any further steps. “I am only concerned for Brian.” 

“There is something else,” Emile countered, turning to meet Justin’s gaze. “Until a moment ago you were quite fine if a little apprehensive. What was it that happened?” 

“I honestly am not sure,” Justin chuckled mirthlessly as he scrubbed his hands over his face. “All I am certain of is that what I saw was true.” 

The words brought a nervous expression to Emile’s face, but only for a moment before he was able to don a mask of indifference. “What is it that you saw?” 

Letting out a breath, Justin dropped his gaze down to the box which was a few feet to his right. “I saw Brian.” 

“Are you certain it was Brian?” Emile questioned, his fear obvious despite his best attempts to banish it from his features. 

Justin was confident that the expression on his face was answer enough. There was no mistaken Brian’s unique features even when distorted in pain. 

“You need not fear Brian’s safe return.” Both men turned, their eyes locked on a single figure now standing within the tent. 

“Is Brian with you?” Justin demanded, taking several steps towards the Roman. 

It was as an afterthought that his eyes noticed the change in Benvolio’s appearance. The normally fastidious Roman’s tunic and leggings were ripped in various places and streaked with dirt and blood. His hair was wild, sticking up in every direction; a frazzled look mirrored in his eyes. 

“Emile, fetch a cloak for Justin. One with a large hood,” Benvolio ordered as he strode deeper into the tent. “He must be concealed for the time being.” 

Justin stood rooted to the spot. “What happened, Benvolio?” 

“A tunic and leggings as well, Emile,” Benvolio called after the servant before turning his attention to Justin. “Brian and I were attacked by a band of Celts while in the forest so we must now keep you hidden should someone attempt to avenge this supposed wrong.” 

“Brian was injured, wasn’t he?” Justin said quietly. “His left shoulder.” 

Benvolio stared at him in undisguised shock. “How could you possibly know that?” 

“Justin had a minor episode a few minutes back,” Emile explained as he returned with an armful of clothing for Justin to change into as well as a pair of boots cut in the Roman fashion. “How fares my master?” 

“As Justin has said, his left shoulder is wounded-- an arrow --but besides that his injuries are relatively mild,” Benvolio assured them, moving back towards the entrance of the tent to peer outside upon falling silent. 

Awkward as it felt, Justin quickly slipped into the Roman garb. The awkwardness came not only from the ill-fitting clothing, but from the simple fact that he was dressed as a Roman. It was very disconcerting. 

“Were it not for that tattoo on your cheek you could easily pass as a Roman,” Benvolio observed as Justin rose to his full height. “As it is, we will have to conceal your face. Thank the gods for this incessant rain. No one will question you wearing a hood.” 

“Where am I being taken?” Justin asked, taking the heavy cloak from Emile and draping it over his shoulders. 

Benvolio made yet another quick venture to the tent opening before responding. “To my tent. It is on the other side of the camp so you will be safe there for the time being.” 

“For how long?” was Justin’s next demand as he allowed Emile to adjust the head to hide his face. “I will be back here before the night is out?” 

“That depends upon coming events. It is entirely possible that you will be back here later tonight or we may be forced to keep you hidden for a longer period of time,” Benvolio admitted reluctantly. 

“But if Brian is here they would not dare invade his tent,” Justin attempted to protest, however the look on Benvolio’s face force the conviction from his words. “What has happened that you have no told us of, Benvolio?” 

Before Benvolio even had a chance to speak, a realization came to Justin and his already pale skin faded several shades and his stomach turned over, threatening to dispel its contents. 

“I need you to get me to Brian now,” Justin ordered, forcing aside his fear. “He is dead if you do not.” 

Benvolio shook his head, the beginnings of a protest on his lips. “Justin--” 

“Now is not the time to be stubborn, Benvolio. Not when Brian’s life hangs in the balance,” Justin growled furiously, his eyes blazing in the officer’s direction. “I know the poison that tipped the arrow and its remedy. I am the only one in this camp who knows how to cure Brian so I need to get to him as soon as possible.... Emile, please reason with him. Make him see sense.” 

Their continued silence frustrated Justin to no end. It was all that he could do not to scream out his anger or flee the tent before he could be stopped. There should have been no discussion of whether or not he should have been allowed to help Brian. The choice was ultimately his since he was the one who would possibly end up dead if he were discovered by the other Romans. 

“I shall arrange for Brian to be returned here,” Emile said to the other men, the worried frown never leaving his features. “Benvolio, you take Justin to retrieve whatever he needs to cure Brian. Make certain you are not seen.” 

Mentally going over what would be required for the poison’s antidote, Justin quietly slipped out the side entrance of the tent, standing in the drizzle as he waited for Benvolio who had left through the main portal. His people were the only clan in the area which meant that they were responsible for Brian’s injury. The poison his people used to tip their arrows in times of war was a relatively simple one yet quite fatal. 

The medicine needed to cure the poison was also relative simple save for one factor: the nectar of a particular flower which grew only within the boundaries of his clan’s territory. It ensured that intruders on their lands would not immediately find a cure if it was possible at all. 

It was of no surprise to Justin that they were stopped on several times as they made their way out of the camp. For the most part, Justin was ignored while they questioned Benvolio on the Celt’s attack and their subsequent escape. Each time Benvolio would put them off, insisting that he did not have the time. It was a truth, only not in the way they expected or would have even believed. Had they realized who Justin was or the purpose for his presence they would not have been so kind. He would have found himself in an even worse position than Brian. 

However, that knowledge did not deter Justin in the least. Though he knew many would fault his logic, in his mind Justin was returning a favour. Brian had kept him safe from Caesar’s grasp and Justin was determined to keep him from a painful and slow death. 

“How long do you estimate it will take to gather the items?” Benvolio asked as the pair faded into the protective cover of the forest. Aware of the hidden sentries, the Roman kept his voice low so as not to be heard. 

“Not long,” Justin was quick to assure him. “I know distinctly where each ingredient is grown. By nightfall Brian should be on his way to recovery.” 

Benvolio’s relief was evident in the sudden relaxation of his shoulders. “That is good to hear. Caesar will be mightily pleased that you have saved Brian’s life. Perhaps even enough so to grant you your freedom.” 

“Surely you can not be that naive,” Justin chided, a wry smile playing across his lips. “If anything, your Caesar will recruit me to reveal each and every one of my people’s secrets. No, my role in this must be kept silent.” 

As he had expected, gathering the necessary herbs and flowers was a relatively easy task that took only a short while. the sun had not even reached its zenith when the returned to the borders of the camp, ingredients stowed safely under Justin’s borrowed cloak. All that remained was to properly mix the gathered materials with some water into a drink for Brian to consume. 

“I am curious as to what Caesar would think of you walking so freely with a Celtic barbarian so soon after what was done to Brian,” a nasally voice commented from to their right. 

Justin felt his shoulders tense but did not stop, allowing Benvolio to dictate the ensuing conversation. 

“You are a fool if you think I would willingly converse with a Celt after what was done to Brian,” Benvolio spoke evenly, his gaze locked upon the dark-haired man. “If you must know, I was sent to fetch a surgeon in hopes of curing Brian.” 

Michaelo blanched at that, his skin turning a pasty white. “What has been done to Brian?” 

“Poison,” Justin nearly snarled in perfect Greek, the language of scholars if he remembered correctly. “Poison from a Celtic arrow which I must now remedy else the young general will not live to see the dawn come.” 

The words were true and upon uttering them to the two shocked soldiers, Justin continued on towards Brian’s tent, begging whatever gods would listen that he not be stopped again.


	7. Edge of the World

For several lone minutes, or so he guessed, Brian had been attempting to open his eyes There were a lot of noises around him and he wanted to see their source. Only his eyelids were too heavy and it felt like fire shooting through his veins when he tried to lift his hand to pry them open. 

There was a peculiar smell wafting in his direction. On that strongly resembled burnt herbs and-- 

Then it was gone. 

_“You will die soon, Roman,” one of the Celtic warriors hissed in his ear as he violently tore the arrow from Brian’s shoulder. The flaring pain brought an agonized cry from deep within his throat. “The poison will kill you slowly, but it will kill you. None outside of my tribe know its cure.”_

_Chest heaving, Brian placed a hand over his wounded shoulder and slowly climbed to his feet, albeit unsteadily. He held himself up at his full height, his right hand dropping to his side, creating an imposing figure despite the visible trembling of his limbs and the fine sheen of sweat that covered his skin._

_“That is where you are mistaken,” Brian growled out in the Celt’s own tongue, startling the burly man._

_Before the other man could fully register what had happened, Brian drew his dagger and shoved it deep into the Celt’s throat with an angry roar which would put even Aries own battle cry to shame._

There was a shadow moving just out of his line of sight. He could see it, but he yet he could not. Perhaps his eyes were still closed. They were not open because it was still dark. Like pitch but darker. Dark enough to suck up the light. Every ounce of it. 

If there ever was any light. 

Brian could not remember. It had been a long time since he had seen any. Not since he had been stranded on the island. All alone. Left to die on foreign shores far from home. 

“Brian...?” 

That was not right. 

“Brian, are you awake?” 

Had it not hurt so much the question would have made him laugh. If he could hear the voice then he had to be awake. The voice should have noticed that. 

Unless the voice was trapped in the dark as well. 

Brian felt bad for the voice. It should not have been stuck in the dark with him. Brian hoped it was not his fault that the voice was trapped with him. 

Where it was dark. 

_“Benvolio!” Brian called as he moved away from the still sputtering body at his feet. He stumbled slightly then immediately steadied himself when he saw his friend locked in conflict with two of the tattooed warriors._

_His sword misplaced, Brian was hard pressed to defend himself against the oncoming broadsword with naught but a dagger._

_“Behind you, Brian!” Benvolio shouted in warning and Brian twisted his body, barely avoiding the downward arch of an axe._

Someone was there. Had to be. There was a hand on his forehead. A hand that was not his own. Could not be. Brian could feel his own hands at his sides and with no small amount of effort was able to twitch his fingers to prove it to himself. 

“Brian, I need you to open your eyes for me.” 

The voice was there again. Calming. Comforting. It meant that he was not alone in the dark. Hard to be alone with the voice there. Watching him. 

“I realize that you are stubborn, Roman, but you will open your eyes.” 

While the words themselves were harsh, the tone was not. It was almost desperate. Pleading enough so that Brian was equally desperate to open his eyes and see the source of the voice. 

_Staggering backwards from the falling axe, Brian tripped over his own feet and stumbled to the ground, landing in a painful heap. Not put off by his failed attempt to connect axe with soldier, the Celt was advancing once again. This time at a much more rapid pace which gave Brian only moments to roll to safety._

Brian jerked into full alertness as icy water was dumped over his face. He sputtered, eyes wild and searching as he attempted to recognize shapes in the gloom. 

“Lie still, Brian,” the voice urged, its invisible hand smoothing through his hair. “The arrow you were shot with was poisoned--” 

_“Whether I kill you or not, Roman, you will still die,” the axe-wielding Celt growled as he bore down on Brian for a third time._

_Acting on instinct and with a primal roar, Brian’s right hand shot out, the dagger clenched in his fist digging into his opponent’s calf to the hilt. As the man fell, Brian sprung into action. The wounded Roman scrambled up onto all fours and crawled towards the fallen Celt, stabbing his blade into the jugular. It took a few violent pulls for him to free his dagger from the man’s throat. And even longer to get to his feet._

_By that time, however, he was surrounded by three more._

“Keep your eyes focused on me,” the voice ordered, having taken on a fuzzy, bright form. 

There was something familiar about the voice. It had a name. A face. One which hovered on the edge of Brian’s mind but that he could not grasp. 

_The left side of his body alternated between fire and complete numbness. A decided disadvantage when attempting to protect himself from several opponents. It was only by the grace of the gods that he had yet to be struck down permanently._

_Then an unseen object connected sharply with his right arm, causing his grip on the dagger’s hilt to falter. Brian watched with an almost detached amusement as it tumbled to the ground._

“BRIAN! Your eyes, to me,” the voice demanded, its hands coming to rest on either side of his face. 

Valiantly he tried to do as the voice commanded, but his lids were constantly drooping downwards. The voice became insistent then, increasing in volume until it hurt his ears. 

Then the figure came into focus for a brief instant. 

And he caught sight of a pair of intense blue eyes. 

“I am going to lift your shoulders so that you can drink a potion which will save you,” the voice told him gently, blue gaze fading back into the whole. 

A hand wiggled under his shoulders and Brian let out a loud cry as pain radiated throughout his entire body. Rather than fading quickly as it had in the past, this time the pain only increased. 

_“Should I die you seal Justin’s fate,” Brian ground out, doing his best to remain standing. He no longer had the strength to defend himself even were he still in possession of his weapon. “He will not survive my death by long.”_

_The warrior gave him a dubious look, the sword poised at Brian’s throat never wavering. “What do you know of Craig’s son, Roman, and how are you able to speak our language?”_

_“Justin is under my protection,” Brian revealed, directing all his remaining strength into his legs so as not to collapse. “If I am killed they will not hesitate to kill him as well.”_

_For the first time the sword began to waver._

A smooth, metallic object was pressed to his lips. 

“Drink it, Brian,” the voice prodded, its fingers lightly massaging the back of his head which it held propped up above the pillow. 

It was only then that he could feel the heated liquid bumping against his closed lips. He must have parted his lips because soon the liquid was dribbling into his mouth It tasted putrid and he immediately began to choke it up. 

“Easy.... Easy,” the voice soothed as it set his head back down on the pillow. As he continued to cough and sputter, its hands moved into his hair, smoothing away from his face. “It tastes awful, I know, but it will help you. Just a few more slips.” 

It took a great deal of effort, but Brian managed to get some more down. Not much but enough to satisfy the voice which talked calmly to him throughout the whole ordeal. When he tried to roll onto his side moments later, the hands stopped him, gently forcing him back down onto the pillow. 

“Just rest now, Brian. Let the medicine do its work.” 

_“How do we know we can trust you, Roman?” the Celt demanded, once again raising his sword up to the level of Brian’s throat._

_Moments from collapse and in complete agony, Brian kept his face expressionless. “That decision lies entirelywith you. I give you my word that Justin will be safe so long as I return to my camp. Kill me and you kill him.”_

_And once again the sword was lowered._

With a loud groan, Brian forced his eyes open, blinking against the annoying light which seemed to be all around him. His skin was soaked with sweat, molding the blankets uncomfortably to his body, but he could not seem to muster the energy to push them away. 

“You awake, Brian?” 

Brian allowed his head to fall, his eyes searching then locking on a familiar face. “Justin.... What happened? Why do I feel as though I just fought my way through Tartarus?” 

He paused a moment for consideration, then added: 

“And drank up half of the River Styx?” 

“There was nothing I could do to alter the taste, sorry,” Justin apologized as he moved from the stool the kneel down next to the bed. “I am merely relieved that I was able to replicate the mixture.” 

Moaning slightly, Brian pushed himself up slightly against the pillows. “What happened? Why was that foul concoction even necessary?” 

“The arrow you were shot with, it was poisoned,” Justin revealed, his gaze dropping to the ground. The blonde let out a shuddering breath, shifting so that he was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest. “By all rights you should be dead by now. You very nearly were had I not caught Benvolio attempting to keep your condition a secret. As it was, I almost did not have enough time to gather the necessary herbs.” 

“Not your fault,” Brian told him as forcefully as he could manage. He had been awake for mere minutes and already he could feel Morpheus tugging at his eyelids. 

“You should rest,” Justin advised, catching sight of his sudden exhaustion. “The poison is gone, but the ravages it visited upon our body are not.” 

Then Justin gave Morpheus assistance and gently smoothed Brian’s eyelids shut. Brian was given no chance to protest before he felt himself slipping into the world of dreams. 

_The imposing entrance of the Parthanon rose up before him, blocking everything else from view. Craning his head back as far as he was able, Brian could see nothing of the sky, only a vast marble ceiling. Then he looked down and realized he was standing within the center of a small room, completely enclosed. There were no windows in the room, nor any hint of a door or adornment on the marble walls. An alter rose up before the Roman and on the alter was a brazier, roaring with violent flames._

_“What is going on?” Brian shouted into the emptiness that surrounded him. “Where am I? Why am I here?”_

_His only response was a howling of wind echoing off the walls._

_“Let me out of here!”_

_Still he was given no explanation and no sign that there was any one else nearby. Brian became frustrated by the lack of response and began to pound on the walls, hoping to stumble across a hidden door._

_“You will have to make a choice,” a voice whispered behind him._

_Brian spun around, his eyes scanning the interior of the small room with still no sign of another being._

_“Your past or your future for you shall not be permitted both.”_

Brian came awake with a jerk, his entire body trembling. Slowly he opened his eyes, disconcerted by the gloom that surrounded him. Brian was quite certain that there had been a great deal of light when he had shut his eyes. Voices mumbled from beyond the curtained section of the tent where he slept. His mind was too hazy to comprehend what was being said. Brian, however, was conscious enough to recognize the voices. Benvolio’s deep baritone and the lilting dance of Emile’s speech. 

And something which caught Brian completely off guard. 

The voice of Caesar himself. 

Dream forgotten, Brian struggled from his narrow bed, a sudden fear for Justin creeping into his mind. Brian was half out of the bed, waveringly slightly, when the sources of the three voices entered his sleeping quarters. 

“You should not be out of bed, my master,” Emile scolded, rushing to Brian’s side to help hold him steady. 

“I am fine, Emile,” Brian gasped out, extracting himself from the other man’s hold. “Hungry, perhaps, but entirely sick of lying on my back.” 

Caesar frowned deeply, crossing his arms over his chest. “I believe your man is correct, Brian. You should rest for at least a day. Recover from what those treacherous Celts did to you.” 

“I would much rather not,” Brian insisted, walking slowly towards the chest a few feet away and leaning against it for support. “I have already lost an entire day as it is.” 

“Think of your health then,” Caesar tried, turning towards his youngest commander. “You need to take care of yourself and allow your body to recover.” 

“I am well enough, Caesar,” Brian attempted to assure the aging general. 

Dubious looks were cast his way from all three men, but Brian would not back down. He stood steadfast, a blank expression on his face. Realizing that his mind would not be altered, Caesar left a short time later, after gaining Brian’s promise that he would at least take it easy for a few days if he would not rest completely. 

As soon as the general was gone, Brian sagged down atop the chest. He kept Benvolio and Emile from advancing on him by raising a single hand in their direction. “I want you to retrieve Justin from wherever you have hidden him.” 

“Only once you are safely tucked away in bed,” Emile bartered, straightening his back as he gazed sternly down at Brian. 

“Emile.” 

Thus the staring contest between the two men, neither of whom was about to back down, began.


	8. Edge of the World

It was the last place that Justin wanted to be, but at the moment it was a necessity. Caesar was checking up on Brian and Justin could not be present in the tent without arousing suspicion. Had Brian not been well, Justin would have remained in the tent regardless. It was only because Brian was on the mend that Benvolio had been able to persuade him to look after his own well being. The lethal glare Caesar had cast in his direction was vivid proof that Benvolio had been correct. 

Justin shifted his shoulders uncomfortably against the wooden post, attempting to find a ore comfortable position. It was more agitation than anything else that caused Justin’s discomfort. His own knowledge of Brian’s personality was enough of a reason for him to worry. 

Releasing a loud breath, Justin tilted his head upwards, hoping to relax himself enough to ease his frazzled nerves. No good would come from his worry. Justin could only hope that between Emile and Benvolio the two men would be able to keep Brian from exerting himself. The Roman may not have realized it yet, but he had been hovering on the very borders of the Underworld for nearly half a day. Even Emile and Benvolio did not fully realize just how close Brian had come to dying. 

“I wonder what Caesar will think when he is informed that you are responsible for Brian’s near fatal injuries,” a voice hissed in front of him. 

Refusing to acknowledge the other man’s presence, Justin kept his attention focused on the heavens. Michaelo was aware of his ability to speak Greek, but Justin would not dignify his accusation with a response when both were well aware that Justin had nothing to do with what occurred. 

“Brian has protected you from harm and you have repaid him by arranging his death. It is only the will of the gods that has saved his life.” 

Justin was desperate to counter the words, but he forced himself to remain silent. It would avail him nothing to respond to Michaelo’s accusations when they were both fully aware that it was Justin who was in the right. 

“You will pay for what you did to Brian!” 

Arms bound behind his back, Justin could do nothing to defend himself as Michael rapidly advanced on him. The Roman clutched at Justin’s throat in a stranglehold so that he was unable to breathe. After a moment, when the original shock wore off, Justin began to kick at Michaelo, attempting to shove the other man away from him. Michaelo, however, seemed possessed by a mad fury and would not release him. 

As he attempted to free himself from the Roman’s grip, Justin ended up slipping downwards, striking his head against the post on several occasions. Finally, he managed to strike Michaelo hard enough and in the right area so that the other man’s grip was loosened enough for him to slip free. 

“I had nothing to do with what befell Brian and you know it well,” Justin ground out keeping all of his muscles tense should Michaelo attempted to attack him again. 

“Cowardly barbarian,” Michaelo growled, straightening himself back to his full height. This time he drew his sword which had been belted at his waist and pressed the tip to Justin’s chest, directly over his heart. “You would kill him yourself if you thought it was possible for you to escape.” 

The tip of the sword began to dig into Justin’s skin as he began to lean forward. 

Planting his left foot firmly on the ground, Justin kicked up with his right one. His foot came into contact with the blade and jarred it loose from Michaelo’s grip. As it skidded upwards, the blade created a bloody groove on Justin’s chest from just above his heart across to his right shoulderblade before it slipped away and tumbled out of Michaelo’s hand. The wound was not a particularly deep one, but because of the position of his arms which were still bound behind his back an unusual amount of pressure was placed on it. 

“Lucian, take Michaelo into custody,” Benvolio shouted from somewhere out of Justin’s line of sight. “He is to be watched at all times and under no circumstances is he to permitted near this area of the camp until you hear otherwise from Brian or myself. Now, Lucian. Antonio, help him.” 

The crowd slowly began to dissipate in the aftermath of Benvolio’s orders and Justin slowly pushed himself into a more upright position. Only when they were gone did Benvolio approach him, kneeling down behind the Celt to unfasten the ropes which bound him to the post. 

“It is a good thing Emile was able to coax Brian to sleep once again else I daresay he would go after Michaelo even in his present condition,” Benvolio said to him as he helped Justin to his feet. “Are you hurt badly?” 

Justin grunted slightly and raised his left hand to lightly probe the injury. “The sword did not penetrate deeply. I shall be well as soon as I clean the wound. Is Brian well?” 

“Better, I am sure, than any of us would have expected him to be at this point,” Benvolio said as he held up the tent flap for Justin to enter. 

Not wanting Brian to see him with the blood smeared across his chest, Justin walked over to the ewer that stood in the main room of the tent. He cupped the cool liquid in his hands and splashed it over his chest in order to wipe the blood from his chest. 

“By the gods!” Emile gasped. 

Justin glanced quickly over his shoulder, placing his right index finger vertically over his lips. “Quiet, Emile. I do not wish to alarm Brian without cause.” 

“I would have to disagree with you, Justin. This is most definitely cause for alarm,” Emile protested, picking up a cloth from beside the ewer and carefully dabbing away the remaining blood. “How on earth did you manage to obtain such an injury when you were out of my sight for only moments.” 

“Slightly longer than that, Emile,” Justin corrected him as he raised his right arm slightly in order to test the amount of strain the wound was able to bear. There was only a slight pull for which Justin was grateful as it proved that the injury was not serious. “In any event it is of no consequence.... Emile, would you quit your fussing. You will only cause the wound to reopen.” 

“What has happened?” 

Jumping away from the servant, Justin stared wide-eyed at Brian who stood wavering between the two rooms. “You should be resting, Brian. You are still weak.” 

“I am well enough,” Brian countered, stepping hesitantly into the room. “Now I demand to be told what has happened to Justin. He was whole the last time I saw him.” 

Leaving the two men standing by the ewer, Justin hurried over to where Brian stood. He wound an arm around Brian’s waist, not the least bit surprised when he felt the Roman slump against him. Without any prodding, simply actions, Justin steered Brian back into his sleeping quarters. Brian stumbled along, his movements unsure, so Justin knew that he was still exhausted even if he was protesting against his need for sleep. 

“I will not be put to bed like a child,” Brian grumbled as Justin eased him down onto the large cot that served as his bed. “Who did this to you?” 

There was a near desperation on Brian’s face that Justin could do nothing to ignore. “It is nothing to worry about, Brian. Barely more than a scratch.” 

“It was Michaelo, was it not?” Brian pressed, evading Justin’s attempts to coax him into lying down. “I will gut that insufferable pig myself.” 

“No, you will rest,” Justin said emphatically. “You will rest and conserve your strength. Benvolio has already taken care of it so there is nothing for you to concern yourself with.” 

Still Brian seemed unconvinced. He kept his eyes trained on Justin as the Celt gently forced him to lie back down. 

“Your body needs rest for the potion to fully do its work, Brian,” Justin repeated, his voice brooking no argument. “So it would be beneficial for you to quit being stubborn and do as your body demands and sleep.” 

Justin found himself on the receiving end of a semi-lethal glare before Brian was unwillingly pulled into sleep. For a few minutes, Justin continued to sit next to Brian on the cot, smoothing his hair away from his face, his hand in constant contact with the flushed skin to determine whether or not he still had a fever. His skin felt cooler which was of considerable relief to the blonde. It meant that the potion truly was working. 

Confident that Brian was on his way to recovering fully, Justin rose from the cot and ventured out into the main area of the tent where Emile and Benvolio stood waiting. 

“Exhaustion, I believe, has finally won out,” Justin revealed, offering the pair a wan smile. “It is my hope that Brian will sleep for the rest of the day for it is rest that he really needs even if he will not yet admit to it.” 

“What are you?” Benvolio demanded, catching Justin completely off guard. 

Justin stared at the Roman, adjusting his posture defensively. “I am human, the same as you. Has that changed without my knowledge?” 

“I am not saying that you are not human, Justin. You are a man, the same as I. The same as Brian and the same as Emile,” the soldier was quick to assure him. “What I am confused of is your position within your tribe. The men who attacked us let us leave peacefully with only brief mention of your name. It is unfortunate, however, that this did not occur until after Brian was injured.” 

Having very little energy left himself, Justin walked over to his customary place where there was now a pile of cushions along side the chest of scrolls that Justin was meticulously working his way through. Once there, Justin lowered himself gracelessly to the ground, scrubbing his fingers through his disarrayed hair which he was quite sure was sticking on end from the number of times he had raked his fingers through it over the past two days. 

“Justin, who are you?” Benvolio repeated, crouching down in front of the weary Celt. 

Justin met the Roman’s steady gaze, blue eyes never wavering. “I am Justin ab Craig, chieftain of my clan.” 

“A prince,” Emile gasped, allowing Justin to move his eyes away from Benvolio to look at the servant who stood stalk still next to the brazier. “Why on earth did you never tell us you were a prince, Justin?” 

“I did not think it was of any consequence,” Justin said honestly. “Whether I am a prince or not-- which I do not believe I am --does nothing to alter the situation. I am still a prisoner.” 

Benvolio scrubbed his hands over his face, releasing a frustrated sigh. “That is not something you should have kept to yourself, Justin. Really it is not.” 

“Would it really have done me any good?” Justin protested. “What is of greater importance is how you managed to escape. It would have to be more than the simple mention of my name. There are many times I am convinced that my father does not even wish me for his son. I would not be surprised to find that he is celebrating my capture.” 

“Then why would they agree to spare Brian and me in exchange for your continued security?” Benvolio pressed, shooting to his feet in order to begin pacing around the enclosed area. “There has to be some reason why they are so concerned about your well being. Some reason why they seemed almost desperate to have you back.” 

Sinking deeper into the pillows, Justin sighed loudly. “For the same reason your great Caesar refuses to admit that he is hopelessly lost on this island. It is a matter of pride. My father does not like to have things taken from him. Even me. It has nothing to do with my importance in the clan.” 

“I refuse to believe that, Justin,” Benvolio insisted, snaking his fingers through his hair. “There must be some other reason. One which you are not admitting to.” 

“Since it is obvious that this discussion is getting us nowhere, I think it would be best to call a halt to it,” Emile suggested, acting as the voice of reason. “Besides, Justin has been awake since dawn yesterday and can undoubtedly use some rest.” 

“I am fine, Emile, but thank you,” Justin nodded, smiling at the other man. He then looked over at Benvolio, his expression calm. “I know that you are worried about Brian, Benvolio, as am I. However, making these wild assumptions will not answer your questions. It is unlikely that my identity had much to do with what happened this afternoon. It might have given them pause, but it would not have gained you and Brian your freedom.” 

Still obviously quite frustrated by the lack of answers he was receiving, Benvolio departed a short while later. He had not felt the least bit tired while speaking with Benvolio, only a trifle wrung out, but now that the soldier was gone, Justin could feel the exhaustion creeping over him. And while he had intended to finish reading Sophocles’ play of the ancient Greek king Oedipus, Justin fell asleep before he could even open the chest. 

Only to awaken some time later feeling the heat of another body beside him. Slowly blinking his eyes open, Justin was only slightly surprised to see Brian sleeping soundly beside him. Justin reached a hand up to feel the temperature of Brian’s neck and forehead , letting out a breath he had not even been aware of holding when the other man’s skin felt normal, no hint of fever. 

“I went to retrieve some food should the two of you awaken hungry and when I returned Brian had joined you out here. He never has been one for sleeping over extended periods of time so I should have expected as much,” Emile spoke up, causing Justin to turn his head in the direction of the other man’s voice. “The pair of you have slept away the entire afternoon. The sun is just setting now.” 

“I had not meant to sleep at all,” Justin mumbled, stretching slightly. He bit back a wince when he felt the gash across his chest being pulled by the movement. 

Emile smiled fondly at the young Celt. “You deserve a rest after the miracle you worked yesterday, Justin. In fact, I daresay you could sleep longer.” 

Justin lethargically pushed himself up, rubbing his hands over his face when he was seated upright. “If it is all the same to you, I would much rather remain awake. It does not feel right to be sleeping in the middle of the day.” 

“You were awake the entire night,” Emile pointed out, arching one delicate eyebrow. 

“And as you pointed out it is nightfall now so I should be awake.” 

“Justin--” 

It took only a single look to silence Emile’s protest. A glare that contained more than a hint of laughter. “I am not Brian, Emile. You can not guilt me into staying abed when I would rather be awake.” 

“I am awake,” Brian mumbled around a yawn. 

“Which you should not be,” Justin told the Roman, turning his upper body so that he could gaze down at the reclined man. 

Brian gave a sharp snort and, with Justin’s aid, sat up himself. “Were it up to you and Emile I would sleep away the rest of the week. I am well and would be entirely grateful if the lot of you would quit pampering me. I am a soldier. I should be sleeping on a cold pallet in the midst of a snowstorm as any other soldier would be forced to.” 

“As though you were permit such a thing, my master,” Emile smiled and Justin could clearly read the relief on the other man’s face. “You forget how well I know you. In fact, I daresay that Justin could see the lies your declaration is choked with.” 

In a single motion, Brian vaulted to his feet, wavering only momentarily before standing upright. He was dressed only in a pair of leather breeches which reached only to his knees and hung low on his narrow hips. With his pale skin and wild hair, Brian appeared every bit the god he denied being. It was only when the Roman turned and Justin was able to see the raw, reddened wound the arrow had left behind that he was once again reminded of Brian’s mortality. A mortality that he himself shared. 

“Since you will not hear it again, Emile, I suggest you treasure this moment,” Brian began cryptically, a wry grin appearing on his face. “I want you to gather as much food together as a single person could consume in a solitary sitting. I am hungry.” 

“And what of Justin?” 

Brian glanced down at the Celt, his smile remaining. “I believe that Justin is capable of eating as much, if not more, than I.”


	9. Edge of the World

Three days had passed since his near brush with death and Brian was only just beginning to feel like himself again. His strength had returned as had his balance and coordination. Brian knew that for a fact because earlier that morning he and Justin had had a practice bout inside the confines of his tent. It was not a full fledged battle due to space requirements, but Brian nonetheless received a good demonstration of Justin’s fighting abilities. Were they ever to meet on the battle field, Justin would be a formidable opponent. There was also the strong potential that he would be a lethal one due to the deadly accuracy of his massive broadsword. At the end they had been forced into a draw, both having acquired a few bumps and bruises as a result of knocking into tables and chests. 

Benvolio had walk in towards the end and it was only Justin’s extreme reflexes which saved the soldier from impalement. Both Brian and Benvolio had stared in shock at the tip of the blade which at that moment had been a mere hairsbreadth from Benvolio’s stomach before Justin had pulled the swords back, offering an apologetic smile. B all rights and purposes the blade should have pierced Benvolio’s middle, yet Justin had been able to stop the monster blade with surprising speed. 

“If Justin can fight so well how was it possible that he was captured?” Benvolio demanded as he and Brian walked to the practice field. “No offense meant, but I find it a wonder that you were able to hold out so long against him.” 

“It is likely only the confines of the tent that kept us so evenly matched,” Brian admitted to his friend. 

As the pair continued on their way to the practice field, Justin felt a tremor overcome his left arm, culminating in a prolonged shaking of his hand that he could not quell. Brian clenched his hand into a tight fist, willing the tremors away to no avail. His hand continued to shake even as he grabbed his fist up with his other hand, holding it immobile against his chest. 

“Are you well, Brian?” Benvolio inquired when he noticed the problem Brian was having with his hand. 

Brian nodded his head jerkily and released his hold on his left hand, holding it down at his side as he willed the tremors away. 

It was two days later, when the spasms continued that Brian became incredibly frustrated and equally worried. He knew that it was a result of the stab wound to his shoulder which was still sore to the touch even five days after the fact. 

“You are pushing yourself too hard,” Justin chided as he vigorously massaged Brian’s hand. “Even with the poison removed the wound still remains. And since the wound is on your shoulder it is only natural that your arm and hand would be effected.” 

Brian flashed a mock glare in Justin’s direction. “There is no reason for you to be so logical about it.” 

“One of us should,” Justin said to him, his nimble fingers digging into the taut muscles in Brian’s palm. “And I might remind you that both Emile and I attempted to warn you that such a thing would occur if you pushed yourself too soon.” 

When Justin released his hand, Brian flexed his fingers. “I do not have the time to sit around nor the desire. Regardless of my opinions of this invasion, I must do what I can to ensure that the men under my command are capable of defending themselves suitably.” 

Justin stared at him in confusion. “You are against the invasion?” 

“I thought I had made it quite clear that what I want is to go home,” Brian told him, leaning back against the mound of cushions and scrubbing his right hand over his face. “I would like to sleep in my own bed, wander through my garden at dawn, meet my nephew, see my sister once again.... I just want to go home, Justin. To Tartarus with Caesar and his self-righteous war.” 

“I was not aware that you were allowed to speak of your mighty general in such a way,” Justin teased to the sound of a nearby chest opening. 

“Unless you have plans to reveal my ranting to Caesar I am not in any danger,” Brian smirked, keeping an arm draped over his eyes. “Not that he would believe you in any way. So on both counts I am safe.” 

“You will get home, Brian, of that I am certain,” Justin assured him. 

Sliding his arm back to his forehead, Brian gazed at Justin who was unrolling yet another scroll, something he had become quite fascinated with over the past few weeks. “You will get home as well, Justin,” he promised, his voice adamant about the fact. 

By the following morning there was a noticeable improvement in the functioning of Brian’s hand and arm. It was still slightly weak, but the trembling of the limb was considerably less. As a result, Brian felt remarkable more at ease as he walked among the combating pairs, occasionally stopping and replacing one of the two soldiers when he wanted to point out a flaw in a certain technique. 

“Lucian, how long have you been fighting these Celtic barbarians?” Brian demanded, arms crossed over his chest to mask the small tremor in his hand. 

“Nearly four years now, sir,” the soldier responded immediately. 

Brian held the nervous man’s gaze, arms dropping to his sides and hands on his hips in a very menacing posture. “In those four years have you never come across a Celt in hand to hand combat?” 

“Many times, sir.” 

“Then why do you insist upon keeping your shield down? Unlike us, the Celts fight with a double-handed sword and can come at you from all angles. Often times your shield is all that will save you so use it wisely,” Brian instructed, lifting Lucian’s shield into a position that would best protect the left side of his body. “Marcellus, attack him again and this time, Lucian, use your shield.” 

Brian stayed to watch the two men for a few minutes before moving on to the next group. Until noon they carried on in such a manner, Brian slowly making his way through his legion, molding them into the perfect fighting unit. 

“Are you certain you are not pushing yourself?” Benvolio inquired as he and Brian slowly made their way through the camp in search of a meal. 

“I am well, Benvolio. You worry needlessly,” Brian stated as calm as he could manage. For the past five days Benvolio and Emile had been after him constantly to rest and eat more than his fill. At least when Justin was attempting to coax him into looking after himself, Brian was the recipient of a thorough hand and arm massage. 

Benvolio cast him an unsure glance but was silent nonetheless. 

“You are looking quite refreshed, Brian,” Caesar said as he approached the pair from the other direction. “Better and better every time I see you.” 

“I was not injured so severely as everyone assumes I was,” Brian replied automatically. “Two days of rest and I was back in top form.” 

It was a lie, but Brian would not allow himself to be seen as weak by anyone. Especially not Caesar. It was only when he was confined within his tent that Brian would drop his guard and allow himself to be seen as vulnerable. Of course, even then it was difficult because there was no telling when anyone would enter, unannounced, and he would have to return to his projected persona in the space of a breath. 

“Master!” 

Brian’s entire body spun around at the sound of Emile’s panicked shout, his hazel eyes scanning the throng for his servant. Catching sight of the other man almost immediately, Brian rushed towards him, ignoring completely the strange look he was receiving from Caesar. 

“My master, there is a messenger here for you,” Emile explained as soon as they met. “He claims that it is entirely urgent that he see you right at this moment.” 

“Where is the man then? Let him speak,” Brian said, his eyes already scanning for the messenger who appeared immediately at Emile’s side. The instant that he set his eyes on the messenger, Brian’s blood began to run cold in his veins. The man was from his own household. “Melanus, what are...? Why have you come so far?” 

The dark-haired man lowered his eyes to the ground, narrow shoulders sagging. “I am terribly sorry, master. It is your sister and nephew....” 

“What of them? Melanus, do not keep me in suspense,” Brian all but growled. “Tell me what has become of Lindsai and Augustus.” 

“They are dead, my master,” the slender man gasped out, meeting Brian’s eyes momentarily. “They were travelling to your parents’ home in Greece, but the ship was sunk in a storm. Only a few of the sailors were able to make it ashore.... Your sister and nephew were lost.” 

In that moment, Brian felt something within himself collapse into nothingness. He could form no rational thought, his mind unable to focus on anything save the fact that the two he loved most in the world were lost to him. The gods had not even permitted Brian the single chance to meet Augustus before his string of existence had been cut. 

“Thank you, Melanus,” Brian mumbled after several tense minutes. “Emile, look after, Melanus. Find him food and shelter, allow him to recuperate before he makes the return trip to the villa.” 

Without another word spoken, Brian stalked in the direction of his tent. He could no longer bear to be left so open and bare in front of the entire army. Emotions were meant to be private affairs and not exposed the world to see. Were he in Italy, Brian would lock himself in his rooms, refusing even to allow Emile to enter. As it was, he would have to make due with the curtained off area which was mean to be his chamber in the tent. 

There were several voice shouting his name, each coming from a different direction and each equally ignored. Brian would have nothing to do with another living soul until he was had dealt with his grief. His sister had been the most important person in his life since childhood and he could not envision how it would be possible for him to continue on without her guidance. 

Stalking past the two soldiers who stood guard at the entrance of his tent, Brian swung open the flaps and stepped inside. Whatever control he had been exhibiting died in the instant he caught sight of Justin kneeling on the ground, a small wooden chest in his hands. There was an almost frantic expression on the Celt’s face which only added to Brian’s anger when he saw the chest’s contents had been spilled upon the ground, lost in the fine strands of the white fur below. 

The earth that he had taken from his home what seemed like several lifetimes ago. 

“Brian, I can explain--” Justin immediately began only to be cut off by the Roman’s shout. 

“Crassus! Marcus!” Brian bellowed over his shoulder to the two men who stood guard over his tent. “Take the Celt and have him flogged.” 

“Sir?” Marcus gasped, staring at Brian in confusion. 

Brian glared at the two soldiers then charged over to Justin who stood stalk still in the center of the tent and grabbed him by the throat. “You heard me, Marcus. You take the Celt, tie him to the post beside this tent and flog him. And you had best ensure that I do not have to tell you a third time.” 

With that, Brian shoved Justin at the two soldiers. The entire time, Justin did not utter a single voiced protest, allowing himself to led from the tent. 

Alone, Brian slowly trudged in the direction of the box Justin had so recently dropped. The only physical reminder of his home was lost to him. 

As was his home. 

Brian could still remember the last time he had seen Lindsai. The two of them stood in the garden of the villa, Lindsai only weeks from delivering her child. As always, Lindsai had been the brave one, assuring him that they would see each other again before the year was out. She had kissed him on the cheek and assured Brian that she would keep him in her prayers. 

A stifled cry leaked in through the side entrance, catching Brian’s attention immediately. All at once, Brian realized what he had done and shot to his feet. He rushed towards the side entrance of the tent, throwing opening the flaps and emerging into the hazy afternoon sun. 

“Stop this now!” Brian gasped out, his throat constricting at the sight of the bloody weals that marred Justin’s once smooth back. “Marcus, I order you to stop what you are doing!” 

The solider, whose arm had already been in a downward motion, struck Justin a final time before lowering the whip to his side. “Sir?” 

“I will not repeat myself, Marcus. You and Crassus are relieved of your duties. Join the rest on the practice field,” Brian ordered, his eyes locked on Justin’s trembling form as he spoke. 

Only when the men were gone did Brian make any more towards Justin. He knew the expect the flinch when he placed a hand on Justin’s arm yet he still winced at the movement. 

“There is nothing I can say that will remedy what I have done,” Brian sighed as he began to unfasten the tight knots that kept Justin bound to the post. “I acted rashly and for that I have no excuse nor any expectations for you to accept any apologies I would make. I broke your trust, Justin, and for that I will never forgive myself.” 

“I had nothing to do with spilling the contents of the box,” Justin murmured, wavering momentarily as Brian released his wrists. Justin jerked away from the Roman when he made move to help steady him. “I was only doing what I could to salvage it.” 

Brian nodded his head automatically. “I believe you, Justin. I only wish that I had taken the time to confer with you before acting rashly. I would make it up to you now, if you would allow me.” 

The pair were forced to take the long way round so as not to alert anyone to their leaving the camp. Under most circumstances, Brian would have had Justin don a cloak to mask his identity, but with his back as damaged as it was presently he could not. Even so he was taking a risk that they would be seen by the sentries that surrounded the camp though, in Brian’s mind at least, it was a necessary risk. 

“I want to know why.” 

Brian glanced back at Justin who was walking half a step behind him, a frown creasing his forehead. “I have been told that I am incapable of dealing with my emotions in a rational way. I allowed my grief and outrage to overtake me and you were the victim.” 

“I still do not understand, Brian,” Justin said quietly, shifting his shoulders to alleviate a pain that Brian knew from experience was an intense one. “I am aware that the contents of the box is dear to you-- that was why I was attempting to replace its contents --but I had no thought the original action would warrant such a reaction from you.” 

“I had only recently received terrible news from home,” Brian admitted, absently scratching at his right temple. “I was still in a somewhat shocked state when I came upon you and reacted without full knowledge of events and for that I apologize. It should not have happened, but I can promise you that it will not happen again.” 

Justin quickened his stride so that he and Brian walked abreast of each other. “May I know what that news was?” 

“My sister and nephew are dead,” Brian said without emotion as he navigated their way through the dense forest.. 

“You can not be expected to act in a rational manner in the wake of such news,” Justin excused him. “I know how dear your family is to you even if I am unable to sympathize with your loss.” 

Stopping in his tracks, Brian turned so that he and Justin were face to face. He could see the shock on the boy’s face, as well as a sudden flare of up fear in his intense blue eyes, which only angered Brian. There was no reason for Justin to be afraid of him. 

“I have wronged you, Justin. That is something I admit to fully. I asked you to trust me and then betrayed that trust. There is nothing I can say that will excuse my actions,” Brian insisted, reaching out to cup Justin’s cheek. “I can only hope that you will come to trust me again.” 

“I had thought that you would trust me enough to give an explanation,” Justin whispered, blinking rapidly to do away with the tears Brian could see filling his eyes. 

“You had every right to do so. I am the one who is in the wrong, not you,” Brian sighed. “Now please follow me.” 

Brian dropped his hand to the side of Justin’s throat, squeezing briefly before he turned and continued along the path. There was a few moments that he was unsure of whether Justin would follow or not, but after a dozen or so steps he heard the smaller man’s footsteps fall in line behind him. 

As they neared their destination, Brian could hear Justin’s footsteps begin to falter. His instinctive reaction was to reach back and aid the young Celt, but he knew that Justin would not appreciate any overture on his part at that moment. Justin had every right to hate him yet, for reasons that Brian could not conceive, did not.. Had their situations been reversed, Brian was quite sure that he would have made every attempt to kill the younger man. In that respect Justin was far more reserved than him. 

“Where I am from, we have soothing baths to help ease us,” Brian announced as they stepped within sight of the hot springs his men had discovered shortly after their arrival in Britannia. “While this is not the true form of a bath, it is as close as we have been able to come in this far flung corner of the world.” 

“I have been here before,” Justin declared as he stepped past Brian, clearly unimpressed by the sight. 

Catching sight of the bloody weals that marred Justin’s once smooth back, Brian felt his stomach clench. The boy had done nothing to deserve such violence, especially not from his hands. Brian had worked hard to gain Justin’s trust and at the first test he betrayed that trust. 

Brian walked up to Justin, standing perpendicular to the smaller man. “Of that I have no doubt. I assume then that you are aware of its healing abilities.” 

“I have,” Justin stated, his eyes trained on the springs rather than on Brian himself. “Why have we come here? I am certain that Emile has a concoction that would work just as well.” 

Brian lifted a hand to cup the back of Justin’s bright head. “The main reason I have brought you here is because I know that the waters will ease your back far better than any salve.” 

Justin lifted his head to stare at him in confusion. “You are quite an enigma, Roman. It is unlikely that I will ever fully understand your motives. I should be nothing but a slave to you. A conquered man.” 

“A man,” Brian corrected him, his other hand once again cupping Justin’s cheek. “You are a man, the same as I, though at the moment the fates are favouring my people. It might not always be the case.” 

“As long as your Caesar is in power it will be,” Justin responded despondently. “I am not fool enough to think that my people stand chance of conquering you. Not when we can not even align ourselves in times of crisis.” 

“We Romans are no better, I can assure you,” Brian told him, his forehead dropping down to rest against the smaller man’s. “Now come. Allow me to erase the pain which I have caused you.” 

When Justin still seemed unsure and did not move, Brian released him and lightly picked up the boy’s left wrist. He exerted no outward force as he began to unknot the leather ties that held the arm guard in place, giving Justin the ability to pull away should he chose to. He did no such thing so Brian moved onto his right arm once the first band dropped to the ground. 

Justin’s bafflement became all the more evident when Brian dropped to his knees in order to remove the heavy boots the Celt was wearing. Brian kept his own dark eyes locked on the blonde’s, watching his every emotion play across his face. Neither man spoke the entire time and it was not long before both were naked. 

There was a slight chill to the air, causing gooseflesh to appear on their skin, but that was quickly remedied as they descended into the murky depths of the hot pool. Brian could tell the instant the warm water seeped into Justin’s abused flesh because his entire expression became lax and he let out a contented sigh. Wading closer to the younger man, Brian pulled his right hand from the water only to trace the contours of Justin’s lips with his thumb. There was an incredible beauty to the boy that the soldier found irresistible. His entire body shook with a chill that he did not feel as Justin’s tongue poked out in order to taste the pad of his thumb. When Justin’s tongue appeared a second time, Brian moved still closer and replaced the digit with his lips, delighting in the taste of the young man’s moist skin. 

His mind beyond rationalities, Brian slid his right hand to the back of Justin’s head, his fingers tangling in the blonde hair, while his left hand moved through the water to Justin’s waist, pulling the Celt still closer. Justin’s arms were about his neck by the time their tongues had taken over the exploration where their lips could not. While his body was pleading for him to hold Justin tightly to him, enough of Brian’s mind was still alert to remind him of the lashes scattered across Justin’s pale back. 

“I beg of you. Inside me please,” Justin whimpered against his cheek, one hand reaching down to caress Brian’s cock. 

Unable and unwilling to deny Justin’s request, Brian placed both of his hands on Justin’s waist, lifting him so that their lower bodies were of more or less equal height. Brian felt Justin ease his dick along the crack of his ass in search of the opening that would bring about their satisfaction. His way eased by the water which surrounded them, Brian slipped easily into Justin’s body, both men crying out at the act. 

Justin was panting and gasping for breath as he brought his hands up to surround Brian’s face, holding him in place while their lower bodies began to rock and thrust in a perfectly timed rhythm that the pair seemed to know instinctively. That same natural instinct was calling on Brian to place his hand at the small of Justin’s back to hold him in place as the water which had made their union an easy one threatened to separate them as well. He curbed that desire by holding tight to Justin’s hip with one hand, the other pumping the blonde’s shaft in time with his thrusts. 

Their foreheads together, both men kept their eyes locked as they climbed to the heights of Olympus before experiencing an intense orgasm which left both boneless, held together only by their own loose grips. 

“The gods themselves could not have created a more perfect vision,” Brian moaned, pushing Justin’s damp hair aside in order to press a kiss to his temple. 

Justin’s laughter tickled his shoulder where his head was tucked safely against Brian’s throat. “I had always assumed the gods preferred coupling with those of the opposite sex.” 

“Then they are fools,” Brian mumbled, his head dropping to Justin’s shoulder. “Because no female could equal the pleasure I find in your arms.”


	10. Edge of the World

Time had become irrelevant a long while before. From the time that Brian had originally knelt before him to remove his clothes the boundaries of time and reality ceased to exist. There was only Brian and him and the incredible connection that formed between them. A connection that went beyond the feel of Brian buried so deep within him. It was a feeling that Justin had never contemplated but in the end felt more right than anything he had ever experienced in his entire life. 

Afterwards, he and Brian remained wrapped around each other, enveloped up to their shoulders in the heated water. And though he longed to know the feel of Brian’s arms wrapped around him completely, it was denied him as a result of the painful welts that covered his back. Several times since Brian had apologized and each time Justin knew that he meant it completely because Brian bore similar marks on his own back. Brian knew the pain such injuries created so the words were not as hollow as they would have been coming from another. 

“There is a beauty in you that I had not thought to find in this far flung corner of the world,” Brian spoke against the top of Justin’s head, his voice muffled almost completely by the blonde hair his lips were pressed into. 

Turning his head, Justin pressed a kiss to Brian’s shoulder. “You are a very odd man when you are content, Roman.” 

“I shall take that as the compliment I am sure it was meant to be,” Brian chuckled, angling his head so that his lips brushed against Justin’s forehead that time. He was silent for several long minutes, one hand moving up to cup the back of Justin’s head, his fingers moving through the blonde locks. When he spoke again, his voice was much more subdued. “Have you gotten to the scrolls of Plato yet? The dialogues of Socrates?” 

“I’m about halfway through the Republic,” Justin informed him, lifting his head so that he could see Brian’s face. “Why do you ask?” 

Brian distangled himself from Justin and waded out towards the center of the pool. The Celt could easily sense the hesitation in the other man and so made no move to approach him, instead allowing Brian to speak at his own pace. The only problem with that was that Brian seemed to become more agitated the longer he remained on his own. So Justin slipped up behind him, tentatively placing a hand flat against Brian’s back. He smoothed his palm over the scarred skin before lightly squeezing his shoulder. 

Brian surprised Justin by turning to him and holding out a hand as he backed towards the side of the pool. “If we stay in here much longer I fear we may end up cooked.” 

Still a little confused, Justin nonetheless allowed Brian to guide him from the pool and onto the grassy shore. There were no clouds in sight so the sun was shining down on them, infusing their skin with warmth even after they left the heated water. 

“You will think me a fool,” Brian said suddenly, turning suddenly to face Justin, a lop-sided smile curving his lips. “In my own mind I think myself a fool, but I cannot seem to do away with this thought.” 

Justin returned his smile and took a step closer so that he was close enough to rest a hand on Brian’s hip. “Why not allow me to decide that for myself.” 

The silence stretched on between them to the point that Justin was sure Brian would not answer him. 

Yet, after seeming to gather himself, Brian did speak. 

“Have you ever felt as though you were missing a part of yourself?” Brian murmured, his piercing hazel eyes meeting Justin’s for the first time since they had been joined. “That you were not fully whole.” 

So shocked by Brian’s statement, Justin found himself unable to respond in any way other than to nod his head briefly. 

Brian seemed to calm slightly at that, the tension leaving his body. “It has been some years since I have been able to read Plato’s Symposium, but I can remember towards the end of it, Socrates makes a speech of what he sees love to be-- the point of the dialogue.... That before we took this shape, all of humanity was formed so that a single being was made up of two people who appeared as though they were lashed together back to back. Only they were not lashed together, but the flesh of their torsos that bound them as one.... No one was ever alone when man was like that. There was always something with them through the course of their life.... But then one day Zeus and the other gods put an end to that. I don’t... something happened to anger the gods and they separated man so that we are as we appear now. Alone. And in that form, man was driven to the brink because he could not function on his own, searching always for the one who had been apart of himself. So the gods took pity on man and gave them a way to become one with each other....” 

Justin understood his meaning and reached up with both his hands to cup Brian’s cheeks. He smiled up at the Roman and slowly drew his head down so that he was able to cover Brian’s lips with his own. A grin formed on his lips when he felt Brian’s hands come down to clutch at his hips, pulling him still closer. 

“You are my other half,” Justin moaned against Brian’s mouth. “I am convinced of that if nothing else. It is the only way to explain this feeling pounding within my veins for I have never before felt it.” 

“Nor have I,” Brian gasped, his breath warmer than even the heat that still infused Justin’s cheeks. “I wish to the gods that I could understand it, but I fear that I never will. And though I cannot understand it, it does not frighten me in the least.” 

Though he would not be able to trace the motions later, somehow Justin came to be lying atop Brian, the other man’s hands sliding up and down his sides. He wasn’t sure how the other man could be comfortable like that, but when he tried to slide off him, Brian gripped his hips tightly, refusing to let him go. So he snuggled against Brian’s chest, his head resting under the other man’s chin, his own fingers dancing over Brian’s arms. 

Justin shifted slightly, pulling the muscles in his back, and was reminded of what had brought about their venture to the pool. Brian must have noticed his wince because his entire body stiffened in reaction. Not wanting Brian to feel guilt over what he had done, Justin shifted so that he was straddling Brian’s waist and sat up so that he was clearly able to see the Roman’s face. He could feel the tickling of pubic hair against his buttocks and backed up so that Brian’s penis rested snugly along his crack. 

“There is no need for you to feel guilt for what has occurred,” Justin assured him yet again. “The pain is minimal and, all things considered, events have proven worthwhile. Had you not given that order, we would not be at this point now and I would never have known the joy I am feeling at this moment.” 

“It is you who are the enigma, not I,” Brian said quietly, a small smile curving the corners of his lips slightly. He moved his hands up to rest on Justin’s thighs, his thumbs massaging the strong muscles, inching closer and closer to his no longer dormant cock. “You have every right to hate me for what I ordered to be done... and yet you do not. Quite the contrary, you allowed me into your body, made yourself vulnerable to me in a way that takes great trust.” 

Justin favoured him with a broad smile, hoping to erase any of Brian’s lingering doubts. “You have done the exact same with me, Brian. Revealing your past to me, even the most painful aspects. In many ways it was you who was most vulnerable. My body will heal, but you shared a part of yourself. That does not heal as readily nor as completely.” 

“You are a very wise man, Justin,” Brian told him, an actual smile forming on his features. “Should the Celts ever unite behind you, we Romans would not stand a chance.” 

Leaning forward, Justin rested his hands on either side of Brian’s head. “I will consider that high praise from such a distinguished soldier,” he murmured before covering Brian’s mouth with his own. 

Justin could not help the smile that formed on his lips when he felt Brian lean up into the kiss. His smile grew even more when Brian grabbed hold of his hips, angling them so that their groins were pressed tightly together. Taking matters into his own hands, Justin moved forward once again so that Brian’s cock, now erect, rested against the crack of his buttocks. His body began to quiver in anticipation, knowing what joy he was about to experience as he and Brian were once again to be joined in the act of being one. 

Without the aid of the water as had been the case earlier, there was some pain involved as Brian finally eased in way inside of Justin’s hole. It was a barely noticeable amount and after four or five thrusts that pain was forgotten completely and all Justin knew was the pleasure involved in the act. A pleasure which grew all the more as Brian wrapped a callused fist around Justin’s own aching erection, stroking it in time with the thrusts initiated by Justin’s powerful thighs moving up and down. 

Wanting to touch Brian, Justin leaned forward so that he was able to hold one of Brian’s cheeks in the palm of his hand, his thumb sliding over the taller man’s bottom lip. As he did so, Brian’s tongue slipped out to caress the pad of his thumb and slowly coax the digit into his mouth. The thrusting motion created by Brian’s mouth sucking on his thumb almost perfectly mirrored the thrusting of Justin’s hips along Brian’s cock, increasing the pleasure already coursing through his body. 

Confronted by pleasure on three fronts, Justin found his previously steady thrusts falter and change into short, hard jabs, barely allowing any of Brian’s dick to leave his hole. Both men were panting by this point and Justin could do nothing to stop the cries that built up in his throat and Brian squeezed his cock harder, his thumb rubbing over the leaking tip and spreading the clear liquid along his shaft. 

There was no articulate sound passing either of their lips, only the constant grunts and groans as they fought their way closer and closer to orgasm and its shattering heights. 

Justin was the first to reach that point, his back arching as he cried out his release. Brian’s climax followed within moments of his and Justin’s hole was filled past capacity with the Roman’s heated semen. Once the tremors of his own orgasm was finished, Justin found that he no longer had the strength to remain seated and collapsed forward onto Brian’s chest. 

“By the gods, but I had never thought to experience anything such that in all my living days,” Justin gasped against Brian’s sweaty chest, feeling the taller man shiver at the contrast between warm and cool. 

For his part, Brian wrapped his arms around Justin’s waist, his fingers moving over the small of his back. Justin sighed and nestled impossibly closer to Brian, enjoying the safety he felt in the other man’s arms. It was the last thing he had expected to feel in regards to the other man when he’d first found himself prisoner in the Roman’s world. He had thought to hate Brian and all that he represented. Instead Brian had treated him as an equal, as an actual human and not a conquered slave. 

“We should return to camp soon,” Brian said after a long silence in which the two continued to lie with their limbs entwined, caressing damp skin. “It will not be long before our absence is noticed, if it has not been already. Emile will be able to care for your back. Ease what this spring has not already.” 

Justin lifted his head so that he was able to meet Brian’s eyes. “You worry needlessly, Brian. I am not hurt as much as seem to believe. The water has done a great deal already.” That said he returned his head to its previous position, enjoying the soothing motion of Brian’s chest rising and falling with each breath. 

“Then humour me,” Brian prodded, nudging the top of Justin’s head with his chin. “In any event, we must return now before Caesar or Benvolio send my entire legion out in search of me.” 

“And should I refuse to move?” Justin teased, moving his right hand up to finger the hardening nipple. 

“If you choose not to move, neither of us will know the sensation of this union on the mound of cushions you have claimed for yourself,” Brian informed him rather bluntly. 

Giving the nipple he had previously been fondling a sharp squeeze, Justin laved his tongue over the hurt bud before once again lifted his head from Brian’s chest. “You certainly do not hesitate to play the weakness of your opponent. I shall have to remember that in future,” he said, his voice tinged by sadness knowing that when that time came, they two would be on opposite sides of the battle. 

A position Justin did not think he would be able to maintain. Even before the events of that afternoon, Justin had known that he would not be able to face Brian across the blade of a sword. Nor would he permit any of his tribe to harm the Roman. So long as Brain remained in Britannia, he would not come to harm. Justin would sooner die himself. 

Despite his earlier protests, Justin knew that they needed to return to the Roman camp. It would have been so easy for him to escape, especially since he was confident that Brian would do nothing to stop him. 

“I must say that I am surprised that you have not attempted to run,” Brian commented almost casually as he reached for one of Justin’s wrist guards that lay to his left. Unable to reach it, he placed a hand on the small of Justin’s back and sat them both up so that the blonde was still straddling his waist. 

When the Roman was still unable to reach the wrist guard, Justin leaned back just enough to wrap his fingers around the wide leather band. “Would it really have done me any good to run?” 

“You would have regained your freedom for one,” Brian said as he took Justin’s wrist in his hand in order to fasten the leather guard in place. 

“What would have been the consequences to you had I escaped?” Justin asked, lifting his free hand to smooth Brian’s damp bangs away from his face. 

“Nothing that I would not have survived,” Brian mumbled non-committally. 

“That is hardly comforting,” Justin told him as his hand slid down from Brian’s hair to cup the side of his face. “It is obvious that the consequences would have been severe were I to escape under your care. At least so long as I remain in your custody I know for certain that both you and I are kept safe. So long as we are together in any case.” 

“I am capable of looking after myself, I will have you know,” Brian protested, smirking at the blonde. 

Justin returned his smirk with one of his own, absently circling the still healing wound on Brian’s shoulder with his index finger. “A truth I will believe when I see it with my own eyes. You may not wish to hear it, but I am willing to bet that Emile would agree with me in saying that you still require some looking after.” 

“Emile is biased in that respect,” Brian returned as he brought his hands down to rest on Justin’s hips. “You should have realized that by this point.” 

“And chances are there are some truths to his words,” Justin reminded him. “I have witnessed your attempts at looking after yourself, Brian. You are horrible at it. In fact, you should allow me to dress you just to be on the safe side.” 

Which, surprisingly, Brian allowed him to do. Justin took great pleasure in sliding the fine material over Brian’s well defined and trimly muscled body. He also allowed himself a few extra caresses that had nothing to do with dressing the other man, but rather his all-consuming attraction to him. Caresses which Brian returned in full when he was helped back into his leather pants. 

“If you keep that up the pants will not fit any longer,” Justin said as Brian once again adjusted his cock before fastening the tie which held the pants up around his hips. 

Brian grinned down at him and leaned over to brush a kiss against his forehead. “If anything your pants will fit better this way,” Brian smirked as he gave Justin’s dick a final stroke before slipping it in place. “In any event, I will ensure that your pants fit properly once we return to the tent.” 

“Then perhaps it is time we returned,” Justin grinned up at him. 

It was close to nightfall by the time the pair returned to the camp. The fading sun allowed them to approach without fear of being readily seen. It permitted them to take a more direct route back to Brian’s section of the camp and into the tent where Emile was pacing nervously across the open area in its center. 

“Caesar has just sent men out in search of you,” Emile hissed as he turned to face the two returning men. “Do you have any idea what would have occurred had the two of you been discovered together wherever it was you had ventured? Justin would have been killed and you, my master, would have been--” 

“It is likely that I too would have been killed,” Brian finished for him, scrubbing a hand over his face. “There is no need for you to chastise me, Emile. What I need now is for you to retrieve one of your salves for Justin’s back while I go inform Caesar of my return before the soldiers he sent out after me find themselves a mischief.” 

As the soldier moved to walk past him, Justin reached out and caught hold of his arm. He waited until Brian turned to meet his eyes before speaking. “Be safe.” 

Brian turned completely so that he was able to take Justin’s face in his hands then leaned down to cover the blonde’s lips with his own. “You worry too much,” he murmured into the pliant lips below his. 

Then Brian was gone, leaving him standing alone.


	11. Edge of the World

“Emile informs me that my short disappearance was noticed,” Brian said casually as he entered Caesar’s tent. 

The aging general looked up from the maps spread out before him on the table, quite startled. “Brian! You have returned unharmed! Where have you been?” 

“Why would I be harmed?” Brian asked as he gracefully lowered himself onto a stool. 

“You were certainly not in the proper frame of mind when you disappeared,” Caesar reminded him. “And I have heard rumour that you took the Celt with you. Where is the barbarian at this time?” 

Brian stood stiffly, his shoulders squared and his arms crossed over his chest in an intimidating manner. The posture, he knew, would have little effect on Caesar save promoting his confidence. “At my tent where he belongs.” 

“And this afternoon?” 

“With me,” Brian said with a casual shrug. 

It was obvious that the honesty Brian expressed caught the general off guard. As it had been with the Greeks, homosexuality was accepted by the Romans. As with every culture that existed, however, what was accepted socially was not necessarily accepted individually. 

Raised in Greece, Brian had been introduced to homosexuality at a very young age. He had been barely fourteen the first time he had had sex with another male, his instructor at the gymnasium. Having been segregated from women his entire life, it was of no surprise to Brian that it was also his first sexual experience. 

“Why was he with you?” 

Caesar’s voice pulled Brian from past memories of his times in the baths with the man who had been more than twice his age. Their affair had lasted only a few short weeks, but it was enough for Brian to realize that a woman’s body would never satisfy him the way a man’s would. 

Knowing Caesar as he did, Brian chose his words wisely. “Because he was the font for my grief. Within him I was able to find peace.” 

“There are countless women who would have served you better.” 

“I doubt that,” Brian couldn’t help but smirk, having heard such a response more than once in the fifteen years since he had first slept with a man. 

The answer that Caesar gave him was another he had heard countless times before as well. “There would certainly have been less talk had you chosen a female.” 

“The talk of other people has never bothered me in the past so it is unlikely that this event will be any different,” Brian said, scrubbing his hands over his face as he felt exhaustion suddenly creeping up on him. “I needed to release some tension and Justin provided that release.” 

“You are on a first name basis with the barbarian?” Caesar growled, his dark eyes flashing in Brian’s direction. 

The pain Brian felt building at his temples kept him calmer than he would have been otherwise. “What of it? The boys is teaching me to speak in his tongue, the least I can do for him in return is to call him by his given name.” 

“He is a savage!” Caesar insisted. “He is below us and not worthy of our respect. None of them are. 

“Justin is a man, the same as either of us!” Brian shouted before he could stop himself. 

Instantly, Brian knew that he had crossed over a line not meant to be crossed. A point which was made incredibly clear by the sword point that he found pressed to his throat. Brian did not flinch, but kept his gaze on the general’s, waiting for the older man to calm down. 

“What you are saying, Brian, would get you killed did you not hold the position you do,” Caesar informed him. “The only reason I will not order your death is that you are a commander of one of our best legions. You will be watched, however. Very closely for I will not allow my army to be put at risk by your sentimentalities.” 

“Hardly sentimentalities,” Brian mumbled, doing his best to keep his throat from moving. Yet it did not prevent the trickle of blood he felt sliding down his neck from the tip of the sword. “I simply find it impossible to considering someone as obviously intelligent as Justin to be a savage. It is an individual observation and not based on my views of the Celts as a whole.” 

For several long minutes the two men continued to stare at each other, neither one with an unwavering gaze. There was no conceivable way that Brian would back down on his views regarding Justin. Even if the blonde would never know of the particulars of the conversation, he would not allow Justin to be degraded by those who were his better only in their own minds. 

“You allow the Celt far too much access into your affairs,” Caesar said as he slowly lowered the sword back to his side. “Into our affairs. Should he manage to escape he could reveal our plans to the Celts and we would lose our foothold on this island.” 

“Quite a tenuous hold at best,” Brian informed him. “Nearly three weeks here and we have not moved from this spot. We should have moved a great deal further inland by this time.” 

“Resistance is stronger than anticipated,” was the excuse Caesar gave him. “It will become impossible to counter should your pet ever escape you. He will inform them of our plans and tactics and we will be pushed back into the sea. You understand why I can not allow such a thing, Brian. So the boy must die. Tonight.” 

“No!” Brian shouted automatically. “He will not die!” 

Once again the sword was leveled at his throat. Brian knew that he should watch his words more closely, but his mind was still in a haze of pleasure from his afternoon spent in Justin’s arms. The comfort and peace he had found there was unlike anything he had ever before known. 

Brian stepped backwards away from the point of the sword, his anger perfectly visible. “Justin has done no wrong and will not be killed. Should he be injured in any way I will seek retribution. On that you have my word.” 

With one final glare in Caesar’s direction, Brian stalked out of the tent. He hurried back in the direction of his own tent without giving the impression of haste. He did not trust Caesar enough to ensure Justin’s continued safety out of his sight. The only way Justin would be truly safe was for Brian to be with him as much as could be managed while still maintaining his necessary duties. 

He would give Caesar no excuse to kill either himself or Justin. 

“Brian!” 

At the sound of his name being called, Brian cringed inwardly. He wanted nothing to do with the whining soldier who had already caused him so much grief where Justin was concerned. Michaelo was the one to bring Justin to Caesar’s attention. Justin would have been far safer had Caesar never known of his existence. 

“Brian, wait!” Michaelo shouted from directly behind him. Before the voice had even been swallowed by the wind, he felt the smaller man’s hand on his back. 

“I do not have the time for this, Michaelo,” Brian ground out, snaking his fingers into his hair. “I have things to take care of this night.” 

Michaelo did not seem deterred in the least. “I only wanted to find out how you were taking the news of your family. It must be hard to learn that everyone you’ve ever loved has fallen victim to Neptune’s wrath.” 

“I had managed to avoid thinking of it for some time,” Brian growled, staggering away from Michaelo when he made a move to place a hand on his arm. 

“I am sorry, Brian. I did not mean to remind you of it.” 

“Of course you did else you would not have said it,” Brian said as he took a step around Michaelo and continued on towards his tent where Justin was waiting. 

“But, Brian--” 

Before Michaelo could place a hand on his arm yet again, Brian moved out of his reach only to be stopped by the next words to come out of the spineless soldier’s mouth. 

“He purposely destroyed your box, Brian. He stood in front of me and dumped its contents onto the rugs,” Michaelo shouted after him. 

Brian spun around to glare at the smaller man. “Justin would not do something like that. You, I think, would. In order to place the blame on him you most definitely would.” 

“I would never do that!” Michaelo insisted, reaching once again to touch Brian. “I only went there to find you in order to see how you were doing, but instead I found the barbarian dumping out the context of your box.” 

“You would do well not to lie to me, Michaelo,” Brian informed him, his voice a lethal hiss as he pressed the point of his dagger to Michaelo’s chest just above his heart. 

“It is not a lie,” Michaelo insisted. “I saw it with my own eyes.” 

Brian laughed cruelly, increasing the pressure he exerted on the dagger. “Of course you did, Michaelo. You are the one who emptied the contents of the box.” 

“I did no such thing!” Michaelo shouted in outrage, momentarily forgetting about the sharp knife separated from his skin by only a thin shirt. 

Sick of hearing the false denials, Brian shoved Michaelo out of his way and once again began the trek to his tent. He would be content if only he could see Justin once again. The blonde would calm his frazzled nerves and hopefully curb his current homicidal desires. 

It was a relief to him that he did not encounter anyone else who attempted to begin a conversation with him. All that Brian wanted was to hide away in his tent for the rest of the night, forgetting the existence of all save himself and Justin. For a time, at least, he would be able to lose himself within the younger man. Even if all he did was lie wrapped within Justin’s arms, he would be content and able to center himself once again after his recent confrontations with Caesar and Michaelo. 

“Marcus, Crassus, you are relieved for the night,” Brian said as he neared his tent. “Fine some food and take some rest.” 

“Sir,” the two men saluted before leaving their posts and disappearing into the night. 

Brian took several deep breaths before lifting the flap and entering the tent. The warmth washed over him the moment he stepped inside which was made all the more comforting by the welcoming smile on Justin’s face. A smile which vanished in an instant, confusing Brian who was instantly on alert. 

“Emile, fetch a cloth and some water!” Justin called over his shoulder as he rushed towards Brian, his left hand reaching up to cup the Roman’s throat while he tentatively pressed the fingertips of his other hand to the opposite side. “Does it hurt? How on earth did such a thing happen?” 

“Surely you are over-reacting, Justin. It was just a small scratch,” Brian protested as he attempted to pry Justin’s hands away from his neck. 

“The blood staining your tunic would indicate otherwise.” 

Looking down, Brian was shocked by the amount of blood that had trickled down from what he had assumed was only a minor wound. He allowed Justin to guide him over to the pile of cushions, his fingers searching out the source of the flowing blood. Justin swatted his hand away when he noticed what Brian was doing then eased him down onto their couch of cushions, straddling the Roman’s waist once he was settled. 

“Emile, where are you?” Justin shouted to the servant as he began to lift up the hem of Brian’s tunic. “I warned you that you would not fair well out of my sight, Brian. How on earth did you manage this?” 

Brian shrugged his shoulders absently, lifting his arms so that Justin could pull the bloodied shirt over his head. “It appears that Caesar was in a foul mood and could not stomach the truths I offered.” 

“You mean that you could not curb your temper,” Justin offered, turning to accept the small bowl of water and cloth from Emile. “It is a wonder that you have survived as long as you have.” 

“I often wonder that myself,” Brian smirked, relaxing as Justin began to dab at his chest with the wet cloth. “The gods alone know how I have made it to this point in my life with but a few imperfections.” 

“Hardly imperfections,” Justin corrected him, his features screwing up in a grimace as he dragged the cloth still closer towards Brian’s throat. “They tell the tale of your life recorded in memories and language only you can decipher. Yourself and a few chosen that you’ve given the code to.” 

Brian reached up to cup Justin’s cheek, a smile playing across his mouth as his thumb ran over the full lower lip. His fingertips continued to explore the sharp slopes and planes of Justin’s face as the blonde tended to the wound on his throat. It amazed him how precise and defined all of Justin’s features, so unlike his continental kinsmen for it was as though that particular Celt was built as a Roman rather than the heathen barbarians he claimed as ancestors. 

“If Caesar had it his way, you would be dead now,” Brian said before he could prevent himself. “He ordered me to kill you tonight.” 

Justin’s movements stilled completely, the cloth wavering in his grasp. “And what.... What was your response to this command?” 

“That I would not kill you,” Brian answered automatically, his hand moving from Justin’s face to cup the back of his head and eased it downwards so that their foreheads touched. “I would give my life before I will allow Caesar to take yours.” 

Brian could not contain a gasp as his battered and bloodied body was unceremoniously kicked down a short incline. Weak fingers clawed at the earth, attempting to slow his descent or stop it completely, but he was unsuccessful on both counts as the slick grass evaded his grasp with every attempt. 

Words were shouted at him in an unknown language as a booted foot stopped his momentum in an instant. By the time that Brian was able to open his one undamaged eye he was surrounded on all sides by snarling, angry Celts. They appeared monstrous from his position on the ground, each one covered in thick layers of leather and animal furs, their features obscured by heavy beards and flowing hair. Their appearances mean little in the instant that Brian first caught sight of the massive axe held in the right hand of the one he had come to know as their leader. The sharpened tip gleamed with fresh blood. Roman blood. 

It took every ounce of will power and strength that remained in his body, but Brian first forced himself up onto his hands and knees before pushing himself up. Too weak to stand, he managed to remain upright on his knees, his one-eyed gaze never wavering from the brute with the axe. 

An axe he knew was soon to remove his own head. 

“Brian!” 

“Brian!” 

Gentle hands held his face, calming him slightly as he was jolted from an all too familiar memory. His breath came out in ragged pants and he wound his arms around Justin’s narrow torso as he willed his heart to stop hammering within his chest. The hands that had been on his face moments before were then sliding up and down his damp back, the blood from his memories turned into a fine sheen of sweat. 

“Brian, you need to breathe,” Justin murmured into his ear as he continued to slide his hands up and down his back. “Just listen to the sound of my voice, to my heartbeat. Relax and breathe. Whatever it is, it is over. Finished. Nothing can hurt you now.” 

Brian moaned and clutched tightly at Justin, willing away the visions from his past. “Never want you in that position. No one will do to you what they did to me. I won’t allow you to be hurt. Not by anyone. I will not lose you.” 

Justin sunk his fingers into the dark locks, pulling Brian’s face away from his throat where it had been comfortably resting moments before. He dipped his head down, pressing their foreheads together. “We both know that it has to happen at some point. Your army will not remain here indefinitely and when they are forced to retreat, you will go with them. It is inevitable. So between then and now we should enjoy the time we are given.” 

“No,” Brian insisted, reaching his hands up to hold Justin’s face in his palms. 

“When you leave here, Brian, it will be to return home,” Justin countered, leaning into Brian’s touch. “I know you, Brian. That is what you want more than anything. To return to your home. You will not give that up for anything, not even me.” 

“What home?” Brian said with a weary sigh. “My home vanished beneath the waves of the sea with my sister and nephew. The villa is simply a building now. It means nothing to me nor the dirt Michaelo tumbled to the ground.... This place is more of a home to me. With you.”


	12. Edge of the World

The words Brian whispered to him, unprompted, caught Justin completely off guard. Their relationship was meant to be a fleeting one. Justin had never been delusional enough to even consider the possibility that he and Brian would still be together when the Romans retreated from Britannia. As much as it saddened him, Justin was well aware that he had no actual role to play in Brian’s life outside of the context of the present. 

“That is your grief speaking and not your head,” Justin chastised him, placing his hands overtop of Brian’s which still held his cheeks, easing them down to his lap. “Your home is in Rome. Were you in the right frame of mind you would know that.” 

Brian turned his hands over, wrapping his long fingers around Justin’s. He started to speak once then stopped, pursing his lips and drawing them inwards. When he began a second time he kept his gaze fixated on Justin’s own eyes, not allowing the blonde to avert his gaze for even a moment. “If there is one thing I have always been certain of, it is my emotions. They are as unchangeable as the tides. Once my mind decides upon a course there is no diverting it. It is the same with my heart. What I feel for you is engraved upon the very center of my being and not even the gods themselves could alter it. If anything it shields me, even from the devastation of Zeus’ own thunderbolt.” 

The words floored Justin. Never in all his years had conceived of a declaration such as that directed at him. Yet there was no denying that the words had been composed in his honour by a man whose depths Justin couldn’t even begin to understand. 

It was Justin who broke the embrace of their gazes. His eyes did not wander far, choosing instead to focus on their hands which remained entwined upon Brian’s lap. They found their focus on a scar just above Brian’s right wrist. A jagged tear which cut diagonally across his arm. Turning his left hand over in Brian’s grasp, Justin nudged his hand upwards so that his fingers crawled over the fresh scar which couldn’t have been more than a few months old. 

“There is much of your life that I do not know,” Justin said at last. “There are only the glimpses you have allowed me in these past three weeks.” Feeling Brian start to withdraw, Justin tightened his grip on the Roman’s right forearm and very slowly raised his gaze back up to meet a pair of haunted hazel eyes. “With every small amount you reveal, I find myself craving more. There are times I do not think I shall ever know my fill. Knowing that our time together is fleeting at best has created an ache within my chest that I fear shall never heal once you are gone and all I am left with are remembrances.” 

“I will never be parted from you,” Brian insisted, clasping tight to Justin’s left forearm. 

“You are quite the stubborn figure, Roman,” Justin chided, smiling fondly at Brian. “Is it possible to change your mind on any matter?” 

“In this matter no,” Brian answered immediately. “I can think of nothing else in this life which I have desired with the same intensity with which I desire you.” 

Though he knew Brian meant the words implicitly, Justin still had difficulty believing it was possible for such words to be directed at him In his life, Justin had never known much in the ways of companionship, having spent most of his time ignored by his family. After a time, it had become Justin who purposely avoided contact with them as it offered him a sense of control in the situation. However, his position as the chieftain’s eldest son allowed him only a minor amount of freedom in that respect. As Craig’s son and the future leader of their clan, Justin was subject to specific responsibilities that could not be avoided. 

“I had not thought that my words would render you silent,” Brian said after a time. 

Justin offered him a hesitant smile. “I am still attempting to convince myself that I did indeed hear your words correctly for I fear they may have only been a figment of my imagination.” 

“I can assure you that the words are not a result of your imagination’s fancy,” Brian was quick to tell him, a slight smile playing across his reddened lips. 

“Then just what are they the result of?” Justin found himself asking, albeit somewhat nervously. 

Releasing his hold on Justin’s right hand, Brian reached up to cup his cheek. “These words are the result of the feelings you stir within me. A passion that I have never before felt and know that I shall never experience again in this lifetime.” 

Words such as that could easily be discounted as nothing more than empty declarations of a hollow emotion. It was Brian’s expression and the vast amount of emotion he could read in the Roman’s eyes that insisted that it was the truth. There was no denying the feelings which Brian allowed to be visible in his gaze. That in itself was a shocking discovery for when others were present Brian’s eyes always remained guarded, a defense of sorts to protect himself again the obvious harms that had befallen him throughout his life. Even in the presence of Emile and Benvolio, men he knew Brian trusted and respected, there was only so much of himself that he would allow revealed. 

“I hope that it is possible for me to live up to your expectations,” Justin offered, smiling as he lifted his free hand to run along Brian’s arm which was still holding his cheek. 

Using his hold on Justin’s cheek as a leverage, Brian eased his head forward so that their foreheads were in contact. “I have no doubt that you will.” 

Winding his arms around Brian’s throat, Justin eased himself still closer to the slender body below him. The Roman’s shirt was already gone so Justin could feel the entire impact of his heated chest against his own bared skin. Brian’s arms snaking around his waist only increased the contact between the two. 

“As much as I hate to be the one to interrupt this moment, I have returned with dinner for the both of you,” Emile said, his voice breaking through the pleasurable haze that surrounded them. 

As if on cue, a great rumbling ensued from between their bodies From the clenching he could feel of his stomach muscles, Justin assumed that he was the source of the noise even though Brian’s expression was equally guilty. In any event, it was a reminder of the amount of time that had passed since Brian had learned of his sister and nephew’s deaths. It seemed as though days had passed, yet the moon was only newly risen on that same day. 

Emile set down the tray within easy reach of them from their current position and then disappeared into his own section of the tent. “I hope that you remember to get some sleep this night.” 

Justin chuckled quietly as he watched Emile’s retreating back. “If I did not know any better I would think Emile believes us to be insatiable.” 

When he made a move to slide off Brian’s lap, the brunette grabbed tight to his hips, holding him in place. Justin turned back, his eyes raising to Brian’s and was unable to keep from grinning as he continued to lean towards the tray of food that Emile had left behind for them, his movements slow and calculated so as not to allow any strain on his tender back. While he was reclined, he felt Brian’s hand begin to rub his stomach, his other hand maintaining its grip on his hip. 

As he fumbled through the variety of meats and fruits on the tray, Justin let out a gasp as Brian’s lips came down on his stomach. He trembled at the contact, foregoing the food in favour of sinking his fingers into Brian’s tousled hair. His body was jostled as Brian spread his legs apart so that Justin’s body slipped down to the mound of pillows below. Very cautiously he lowered himself onto his back. The placement of the various cushions allowing him to maintain most of the pressure on his shoulders rather than his back so that he was lying spread out as a feast for the Roman who was, at that moment, crawling up his body. 

“It was my hope to perhaps enjoy at least a mouthful of the food Emile so kindly gathered for us,” Justin said casually as Brian’s tongue began to trace the faded edges of the tattoo that stained his stomach. 

Brian’s response was to silently urge him onto his stomach. Justin stared up at him in confusion for a moment before acquiescing to the silent plea, presenting Brian with his newly scarred back. 

“I should never have allowed this,” Brian murmured against the small of his back. “I have marred one of the gods’ greatest creations.” 

“You did nothing of the sort,” Justin assured him, turning his head so that he could see Brian out of the corner of his eye. “What occurred was a matter of circumstances. Unavoidable ones.” 

He watched as Brian’s head dipped down, his face disappearing from sight. “You are far too lenient where I am concerned.” 

Biting into the inside of his left cheek, Justin rolled onto his side, inhaling the cry attempting to break through. With his right hand he reached down to cup the back of Brian’s neck. “And you are far too harsh in your own self-judgment. As unbelievable as it may seem to you, Brian, you are not in control of every event that takes place around you. The world’s events do have a mind of their own, at least those out of the hands of the gods.” 

“You considered me to be a god once,” Brian replied almost whimsically as he crawled up to lie stretched out next to Justin. “Those first few days.” 

Justin rolled at that. “I was temporarily wonderstruck by your godlike beauty.” 

“Is that so?” Brian smirked, reaching out to smoothing Justin’s bangs away from his face. 

“I am afraid that it is,” Justin confirmed, nodding his head. “And I will be forced to mar whatever remaining beauty you possess if you continue to block my avenue to the food Emile has left us.” 

“And of course we can not have that,” Brian chuckled, leaning over to cover Justin’s mouth with his own. 

Though he was distracted by the talented way Brian’s lips moved over his own, coaxing his mouth open, he could feel the other man’s movements as he reached for the tray of food. Not having actually seen the contents of the tray, Justin could only predict its fare based on what he was able to scent. Fresh bread and a roasted meat of some sort. Knowing Emile as he did, Justin suspected that there were also some fresh fruits and cheeses and the customary bottle of red wine. 

“Open up, my little stomach,” Brian murmured, pulling his head away to dangle a strip of spit screwered boar in front of his mouth. 

Justin scowled at him momentarily before opening his mouth to accept the offering. Taking a few bites, Justin forced the meat over to his right cheek and retorted, “It is thanks to our joint activities this afternoon that I acquired such an appetite.” 

“And you enjoyed every minute of it,” Brian countered as he sucked the juice from his fingers. 

“If I did the same it true for you,” was Justin’s immediate response. 

An accusation which Brian did not attempt to remedy. Quite the contrary, he arranged Justin’s body so that he side was upturned and placed a row of small pieces of cheese and olives from just above the top of his pants to roughly around his nipple. Moving carefully so as not to jar the Celt, Brian straddled his legs, his hands pressed down on either side of his hip. 

“What do you think you are doing?” Justin questioned, doing his utmost not to laugh as Brian leaned down in order to suck the first olive from his hip. 

“I figured that would be obvious,” Brian responded after swallowing the green food that defied classification. “If I am to eat, I will enjoy doing so. Now hold still and do not disrupt my meal.” 

It was a challenge for Justin not to move as Brian slowly coaxed each morsel of food into his mouth. With each of the three pieces of cheese and the three olives, Brian would press his lips firmly against Justin’s skin and between manipulations of his tongue and an inward suction would draw the food within range of his teeth. The last piece of cheese, Brian took only halfway into his mouth, gripping it with his teeth, and crawled up Justin’s body so that their faces were even, offering a share of his booty to the blonde. 

“And how am I to eat my meal?” Justin questioned as he swallowed the cheese. 

Stretching himself out on his back, Brian dropped his arms down at his sides. “However you deem it fit. I am yours to command.” 

Justin was floored by Brian’s casual comment. Even given the turn their relationship had taken earlier in the day, Justin knew that such things were not done. There was no conceivable reason for Brian to make himself vulnerable to Justin in such a way. Not even in private. 

“Are you simply going to stare at me while the food cools?” Brian prodded, arching a single delicately defined eyebrow. “I thought you were famished.” 

Still incredibly nervous about the situation, Justin nonetheless pushed himself into a seated position, rearranging himself so that he was in easy reach of the tray which Brian had moved closer to him. Knowing that his back was currently not as flexible as he would have liked, he opted for an eating procedure that would not require him to bend over. Taking a small bowl filled with heated olive oil mixed with herbs and dribbled it over Brian’s chest. 

The Roman let out a tiny shudder, his eyes widening momentarily. The smile playing on his lips let Justin know that he would not object to what he had planned. Or at least to his beliefs about what was to come for Brian looked genuinely surprised when Justin picked up a flat loaf of bread and ripped a small chunk off. 

“What are you--” Brian’s voice cut off immediately as Justin swirled the piece of bread up from his navel and over his belly before lifting it off between his hardened nipples. Brian groaned outright as Justin wrapped his lips around the moist bread, nibbling on it before inhaling the entire piece. “Oh, you are a devious one.” 

Justin simply grinned at him as he tore off another section of bread. For the most part, Justin continued to eat olive oil flavoured bread in that manner, taking great pleasure in watching Brian squirm beside him. His technique was altered in only one instance when he had just about removed all of the excess oil and realized that there was one area he had neglected. Brian’s navel. Olive oil had pooled inside the small recess and Justin could not resist the temptation. 

Sliding backwards slightly, Justin carefully curved his spine over so that his head was lowered towards Brian’s belly and the small pool of herb flavoured olive oil. Moments before the very tip of his tongue made contact with the slick skin, he noticed Brian’s stomach muscles clenching. 

Justin had time for a quick grin before his tongue dipped down into the gathered olive oil. The first thing he noticed was how odd the olive oil tasted without the bread to lessen its potent flavour. It was not a necessarily bad taste-- it would have been impossible for him to consider any food eaten from Brian’s stomach to have a bad taste --but rather an unusual one he had not anticipated. The shuddering moan Brian released as Justin both sucked and licked the liquid from his navel was certainly enough to cause Justin to ignore the taste. 

As he sat back up, Justin flashed Brian another grin as he reached for the final piece of bread he had not yet eaten. “Is that what you had intended?” 

The words had barely left Justin’s mouth when Brian surged upwards from his supine position and onto his knees. He cupped Justin’s face in his hands and, without a word covered the smaller man’s lips with his own, tasting the remnants of the oil within his mouth. Justin groaned at the exchange and could not prevent his arms from finding their way around Brian’s throat, pulling him still closer. 

The kiss continued long past the point when Justin’s lips began to tingle, the sensation spreading itself to every portion of his body following the path of his veins. However, when Brian finally did relinquish his lips, the erratic beating of his heart was given no chance to calm for the Roman then turned his attention upon Justin’s throat, sucking deeply upon the pulse point while his fingers once again began to dance over his stomach. All that Justin could do was to sink his fingers into Brian’s thick hair in an attempt to ground himself, if not to the earth than at the very least to his own mortal god. 

“I know not how I was able to quell the passions you evoke in me for so long,” Brian murmured into Justin’s collarbone some time later. “It consumes me as though it were a fire flowing in place of blood throughout my body.” 

“It must surely be one of the great mysteries of the earth,” was the only intelligible thought Justin could formulate. “The gods themselves are likely the only ones to know the answer.” 

Both of them so completely enfolded in their growing passion, neither was aware of the movement of Brian’s right hand until it was pressed firmly against the center of Justin’s back. A sharp cry passed from between Justin’s lips and he arched his back sharply away from the touch in the same instant that Brian’s hand dropped away. While Justin sucked in several quick breathes in an attempt to ride out the flaring pain, Brian clutched at his cheeks and drew their foreheads together so that when Justin opened his eyes again he found himself gazing into a pair of hazel eyes darkened by regret and sorrow. 

“It seems that no matter what I do, I find myself causing you pain,” Brian whispered as he lowered his eyes from Justin’s. 

“We merely forgot ourselves a moment,” Justin was quick to correct him, nudging Brian’s chin upwards with the tip of his index finger, forcing the Roman to meet his eyes once again. “In any event, the pain is fleeting when compared to the joy your touch brings. The fire it creates from deep within me.” 

“A fire which needs to be momentarily banked,” Brian said quietly as he pulled away from Justin only to settle back on the mound of cushions. Before he had even settled himself, Brian had a hand reached towards Justin, silently pleading for the blonde to join him. 

“I will not break,” Justin said in response to the fragile way in which Brian held him against his chest, his hands straying no further than Justin’s hips as he held him against his chest. “We Celts are built of a far sturdier stock than you Romans. Give me but the night to sleep and I will be well enough by morning.” 

“Is that so now?” Brian chuckled quietly, his chest vibrating beneath Justin’s head. 

“Aye, it is.”


	13. Edge of the World

Towards the middle of the night, Brian found himself woken from a deep sleep. He was unsure of what woke him for he could not remember any dreams that had disturbed him, nor were there any noises from without that still lingered. Carefully shifting onto his side, he stared down at Justin who was sleeping peacefully next to him on the mound of pillows and cushions. It amazed him at just how easily Justin was able to find sleep, as though he had never known a distressing moment in all his life. Brian knew that this was not the case. Even though there was a great deal of Justin’s past that he was unsure of, the fact that it had been plagued by hardships over before his forced imprisonment. 

Staring down at Justin’s sleeping face, Brian found his mind instantly calmed towards slumber. Still, even as he hovered on the outer edges of sleep, there was a tugging at the perimeter of his consciousness. A thought that he could not completely discern from the throng of other memories that clogged his mind. It darted in and out amongst them, leaving behind a trail for him to follow, but not conquer. That hidden though kept him from returning to sleep and the peace that he could share with Justin. 

Brian rose carefully from their makeshift bed, not wanting to disturb Justin’s own sleep. He paced restlessly around the suddenly small confines of the tent, willing away his anxious thoughts. he had his assumptions as to what had caused his troubled thoughts: Caesar’s order for Justin’s death. It had stirred up thoughts that he had been doing his best to forget over the past few months. It was in that single, torturous week that Brian had fully learned the consequences of war. For once he had been the victim, a role that he knew he could not endure a second time. 

“Is something the matter?” 

Spinning around on his heel, Brian shifted his gaze downwards to rest on Justin’s upturned face. The young Celt was still lying on his side, but had his face turned upwards, his eyes only half open. As Brian watched on silently, Justin sat up, resting his arms loosely on his thighs. 

“Brian? Does something trouble you?” Justin pressed, holding a hand out in Brian’s direction. 

Unconsciously, Brian felt himself moving towards the pull of Justin’s silent entreaty. “There is always something that troubles me. It is all a matter of whether I am able to push it aside for the time being or not.” 

Justin pursed his lips, linking his fingers with Brian’s. “I wish that you would tell me what bothers you. It is possible that I could help in some small way. The least I could do is give you temporary peace of mind.” 

“I would that you could,” Brian sighed as he sat down next to Justin. “It would give me great peace of mind were I finally able to put my demons to rest.” 

“Then speak of these demons and we shall banish them into the netherworld for all eternity,” Justin suggested, reaching a hand up to stroke Brian’s throat and cheek. 

Brian sighed deeply, leaning into Justin’s comforting touch. “It would be better if you were not to know of the horrors.” 

Justin merely rolled his eyes at Brian’s declaration. “You know full well that I am not about to allow you to hide behind such a weak defense.” 

Settling himself down on his back, Brian pulled Justin down to rest on his chest. “Even should I desire to, I do not think it is possible for me to speak of that time. It is locked up tight behind heavy barricades and at this moment I do not believe that I am capable of knocking that wall down at this time. Too much is hidden there.” 

“Which is why you need to speak of it,” Justin told him as he lightly stroked a hand over Brian’s stomach. The motion was calming and once again eased Brian to the very edges of sleep. “No good can come from you keeping it locked within.” 

He was slammed hard against a thick tree trunk, the back of his head ricocheting off the hard wood. Momentarily dazed, Brian soon found himself short of air as a strong, long fingered hand wound itself around his throat, pressing him still harder against the tree. His feeble attempts to wrench the hands away from his throat proved futile as his own hands were pulled away only to be bound tightly around the circumference of the tree. Brian screamed from the action, feeling as though his arms were being pulled entirely from the sockets. 

“Brian!” Justin shouted, his hands encasing the Roman’s face. “Brian, wake up!” 

Moaning, Brian wound his arms around Justin’s neck, easing the blonde into closer contact with him. 

Justin’s hands remained on his face, smoothing his hair away from his forehead. “At ease, Brian. You are safe here within my arms. They can not hurt you here.” 

Slowly, Brian felt his breathing begin to slow and his heart to stop hammering within his chest. “By the gods, how I wish these memories evicted from my mind. I would partake of any magics, no matter how sinister in order to rid myself of them.” 

Justin pressed a series of kisses to his forehead and cheeks, calming him still further. “What you need, Brian, is to speak of these things which haunt you. You will never be free otherwise.” 

“Freedom is a relative term,” Brian sighed, turning his face away from Justin’s intense gaze. “The body and the mind are not always in joint and as such one might be free while the other is locked prisoner. For me it is the body that has full claims to freedom while my mind is occasionally placed under lock of its own creation.” 

“As someone who exists in the opposite position, I can assure you that it is far better this way,” Justin prompted, his fingers still moving through Brian’s hair. 

“And I have existed in both. I have had my body abused beyond all pain and my mind tortured by those memories,” Brian admitted, still not looking in Justin’s direction. 

Rather than pressing further, Justin was silent, allowing him to come to a decision on his own. Even without Justin’s prodding, Brian knew that he was right to insist that he talk through the memories. 

Rolling entirely onto his side, face away from the blonde, Brian took hold of Justin’s hand which was still playing in his hair and guided it to his waist, silently urging the Celt closer behind him. Justin seemed to take the hint right away and slid closer to Brian so that they rested back to chest. If he was to speak of his plaguing memories, Brian knew that he would not be able to do so while facing Justin. He needed to be aware of his presence, but could not stomach the thought of Justin’s eyes boring into him as he spoke. Even though Justin would not intentionally do something like that, to Brian his gaze would be as intense and evasive as the eyes of a scholar trained upon scroll in Alexandria’s great library. 

“Two months before we came to these shores-- when we were still upon the mainland --I happened upon a group of Celtic soldiers. You’d think that by this time I would know not to venture off into enemy territory on my own,” Brian snorted mirthlessly. “In any even, I did wander of and was taken under force to their camp.... I had no.. I could not understand a single word of what they shouted at me. I knew they wanted information, only I did not know what information that was. So they did what any other army would do and attempted to... coerce... the information out of me....” 

It relieved Brian that Justin did not attempt to coax him to continue when he fell silent. All that he did was press his lips to the back of Brian’s shoulders and lightly rubbed his clenched stomach. The mere thought of what had been done to him over that one week period caused Brian’s stomach to rebel and it was only the sheer force of his will which prevented him from expelling his earlier meal. A meal that he had taken great joy in consuming. 

“I will wager that you did not know that it took two attempts for my grandmother to imprint me with my first tattoo,” Justin said casually after a time. “I could not have been more than twelve at the time. I was so terrified as she began that I vomited within moments.” 

“You were but a child,” Brian protested, reaching to squeeze Justin’s hand which rested upon his chest. “It is to be expected.” 

“From experience, I have learned that nothing in life is to be expected nor even anticipated, merely experienced,” Justin whispered against the back of his throat. “And enjoyed as much as possible.” 

“Is that so?” Brian chuckled, turning his head so that he could once again see Justin’s face. “So what, praytell, would be necessary for me to enjoy life?” 

“In the long run, you mean?” Justin asked, shifting backwards so that Brian could roll onto his opposite side. 

“In the long run,” Brian confirmed as he began to slide his fingers up and down Justin’s side. 

Justin pursed his lips, an action which turned into a smile in a matter of seconds. “Very well, in the long run it is.... Let me see... ahh, yes. The first thing you would need in order to enjoy your life would be another person so share your thoughts with. An individual with whom you are not afraid to reveal your true self too. You would also require someone to share your time with in order to chase away the lonely hours. The third factor you would require to enjoy your life is someone who will put your needs above theirs. This is not necessary in every instance, only on those which are of great importance.... Most importantly of all, a person requires love.... A binding love which holds two halves of a single whole in unity for a lifetime.” 

Brian tilted his head so that his forehead rested against Justin’s. “And is it necessary for those three people to be separate individuals or are they allowed to be a single person?” 

“That is entirely up to you,” Justin informed him, nudging his nose against Brian’s. 

“Then I choose the single individual.” 

The smile that lit Justin’s face made Brian’s heart expand to proportions that he had never thought possible for himself. His life had been a solitary one as a result of circumstance rather than choice. Brian’s life had always been too hectic too allow others in for any significant length of time. 

Inching himself still closer to where Justin lay and carefully draped an arm across the blonde’s waist. “And in case you have yet to figure it out, that individual I choose is you. When Caesar realizes his folly and vacates this island, I will remain here... with you.” 

“And if I do not allow it?” Justin questioned, frowning slightly. 

“It matters not,” Brian countered with a slight shrug. He then brushed his lips lightly across Justin’s, coaxing the blonde into a smile. “My mind is my own and I shall do whatever it is I see fit and that includes staying behind after Caesar flees with his tail between his legs.” 

“And could I perhaps entice you to some activity between my legs?” Justin prodded, grinning broadly in Brian’s direction. “There is an itch that I am not quite able to scratch on my own.” 

Brian chuckled deep in his chest, rolling his eyes. “I fear that I have created a monster in you, Justin.” 

“Not a monster,” Justin said with a shake of his head. “No emotion this pure could be anything put positive.” 

Eager to once again feel Justin’s tight channel surrounding him, Brian still made sure to consider Justin’s injured back. Rising to his knees, Brian moved his hands up to his waist and the leather ties which held his pants fastened around his hips. After easing the worn leathers down Justin’s strong, compact legs, Brian removed his own breeches and laid back down on the mound of pillows and slid down so that the lower half of his body was stretched out along the carpets and furs. Brian then silently guided Justin’s movements so that the Celt was straddling his chest, knees pressing into Brian’s armpits. 

“Dare I even ask what it is you are doing?” Justin questioned as Brian began to smooth his hands over the blonde’s thighs. 

“We are exploring as many avenues of pleasure as can be managed in your current condition,” Brian explained, his hands moving up to Justin’s hips while his thumbs skirted precariously close to the other man’s hardening member. “Once your back is healed we will get to the most basic, but until then I am leaving no position unexplored.” 

Without giving Justin chance to respond, Brian wound his long fingers around Justin’s shaft at the exact moment that he leaned up in order to take Justin’s left nipple between his lips. He felt the blonde shudder and made sure to hold tight to Justin’s hip with his free hand order to ensure that he didn’t hurt himself in any way. It took only moments before his actions were rewarded by a drawn out groan from Justin. 

The groans only increased in volume and frequency as Brian’s mouth moved down the slim torso, his tongue dipping down into his navel before Justin’s tremors threatened to send him toppling over. So Brian removed his hand from Justin’s cock which brought a disgruntled noise from the Celt’s lips. Justin was barely able to contain a shout when Brian replaced his hand with his mouth. While Justin shuddered and trembled above him, Brian flicked the tip of his tongue against the head of his shaft. 

“Br... Briiii.... Brian!” Justin gasped out, his hips thrusting forward against Brian’s hold. “By the gods....” 

The fragmented sentences caused Brian to chuckle which had Justin moaning within seconds. As he swirled his tongue once again around the mushroom shaped head, Brian was tempted to finish Justin off that way, to savour the taste of his lover and imprint it upon his memory. Yet even greater was his need to reach his climax within Justin’s tight hole. 

A sentiment which Justin seemed to share as well. “I need to feel you within me, Brian....” 

Unable to deny Justin anything, Brian slid out from beneath him, his eyes all the while searching out something to act as a lubricant so that he did not bring Justin any harm. Almost immediately his gaze landed on the bowl which contained the remnants of the oil Justin had dribbled over his chest earlier in the night. Using that to ease his way, he once again slipped his cock into Justin’s clenching hole. 

Into his paradise. 

A paradise that was marred by the fact that from his current position, with Justin on his hands and knees before him, he could clearly see every single lash that covered the otherwise alabaster flesh of Justin’s back. As his mind became fully aware of what he was seeing, Brian’s thrusts faltered. It was Justin who took up the rhythm, arching his hips against Brian’s, a movement Brian naturally found himself responding to. 

However, it wasn’t long before Brian felt the tremors in Justin’s body and knew that it the blonde would not be able to hold himself up much longer. Pausing in his movements, but not sliding out, Brian carefully eased them both down onto their sides. In that position, he was able to lie lengthwise behind Justin and kiss and touch him so much easier, especially when Justin turned his head to look at him over his shoulder. Moving as close as he dared so that his chest was little more than a hairsbreadth from Justin’s damaged back, Brian once again began to thrust within the tight hole. 

It also allowed him the chance to slide his hand over Justin’s chest and down to encircle his cock once again. The instant that his fingers wound around the stiff organ, Justin thrust forward sharply which pushed his back into contact with Brian’s chest. What Brian wasn’t prepared for was the intense heat the healing wounds created. A heat that Brian found himself unable to move away from despite the pain that it might cause to Justin. 

“It does not hurt me any,” Justin assured Brian’s unspoken concerns. “Only you must... you must keep th-the pressure constant....” 

Brian could tell right away that Justin was close to climax and knew that he would not be far behind. As his breath began to come out in shuddering gasps, Justin lifted his right arm and moved it around so that he could cup the back of Brian’s head, urging their faces closer. Brian moved willingly, grinning in the moments before Justin’s lips closed over his own. 

As he ravaged Justin’s mouth, Brian felt the younger man shake in his arms and on the next downward stroke of Justin’s dick his fingers became covered with a thick liquid. At the same time the muscles in Justin’s ass were squeezing his cock which sent him tumbling into his own climax. 

“By the gods....” Brian moaned, echoing Justin’s earlier sentiment. He pressed his face against the back of Justin’s neck, inhaling a scent that by this time was imprinted upon his mind completely. 

It was Justin who interrupted their connection. Brian’s now soft dick slipped from Justin’s loosened hole as the blonde rolled first onto his stomach then onto his right side so that they were lying with their slick chests pressed together. Justin wound his arms around Brian’s torso, holding the other man closer. 

“You are my soul’s other half, Brian. There will be no changing that,” Justin murmured against his cheek. “And as such it is my duty to ensure your continued peace of mind.” 

“I would not wish that task on anyone,” Brian said quietly as he sunk his fingers into Justin’s rumpled hair. 

“You are doing on such thing,” Justin informed him, pulling back so that he could smile up at Brian. “The choice is mine and I will not alter it. You are taking great risks because of me and this is the least I can do in return.” 

Brian leaned over and lightly kissed Justin, savouring the warmth of the soft lips under his own. “There is no need for you to repay me for anything, Justin. Nothing whatsoever.”


	14. Edge of the World

By the time Justin awoke, Brian was gone. The other man had been so long gone that the place where he had slept had cooled. Already on his stomach, Justin shifted to where Brian had been lying, hoping that some trace of his scent remained.

“He has been gone for several hours already,” Emile said from the other side of the tent. “Benvolio came here at the crack of dawn because Caesar demanding Brian’s presence.”

Sluggishly pushing himself into a seated position, Justin turned around to face the other man. “Why did he not wake me? I would have liked to see him before he disappeared for the day.”

“I believe because he claimed you were too peaceful to disturb,” Emile grinned, coming over with a plateful of various fruits. “However, he did tell me to inform you that he will do his best to come back for a brief while around the middle of the day.”

Frowning, Justin raised a hand to push his bangs away from his face. The situation did not sit well with him. It was not only his desire to wake in Brian’s arms, but something else that made him feel ill at ease about Brian’s early departure. For the entire three weeks that he had been visitor in Brian’s life, the Roman had never once left so early in the day.

“Is Caesar likely to exact vengeance on Brian for what he did last night?” Justin asked nervously, drawing the blanket around his waist before he rose to his feet.

Emile looked at him strangely, setting the plate down on a nearby stool before handing Justin the pants he was looking for. “Hardly. Caesar is in possession of a nasty temper and nothing more. There is nothing to worry about.”

Still Justin was not convinced. There was something amiss, he just did not know what it was save that it had to do with Brian in some way. A very central way.

At first unsure of how much strain he could put on his back for the moment, Justin gasped when he leaned forward too far as he attempted to step into his breeches. Sleep had stiffened his muscles, making the pain more acute than it had been the previous day. Steeling himself against the agonizing pain, Justin leaned over once again and donned his breeches as quickly as possible so that he could stand upright once again.

“Here, sit on the stool,” Emile ordered, lifting the plate of fruits from the stool he’d placed it on only minutes before. “It is time for me to apply more of the salve else your pain will only increase as the day advances.”

Moving stiffly, Justin sat himself down on the stool Emile indicated, snatching the plate from the servant before he disappeared in search of the small jar of salve.

While most mornings Justin had no problems breaking his nighttime fast, that particular morning, Justin found himself without an appetite. Instead he picked idly at the offerings, managing to swallow a few morsels before Emile returned.

“You worry far too much, Justin,” Emile chided as he returned to the main area of the tent. “Brian and Caesar have been butting heads for as long as they have known each other. They know no other way to communicate.”

“That seems unnecessarily volatile,” Justin frowned, training his eyes straight ahead as Emile took up position behind him and began to spread the sweet smell salve over his back. “Do the two even trust one another?”

“Now that is a loaded question,” Emile chuckled quietly. “On the battlefield I have no doubt that they trust one another implicitly. It is a necessity in order to stay alive when one is at war. It is off that their personalities clash.... However, I can say quite certainty that there is a respect between them even if neither will admit to it unless under duress.”

Still, Justin was not convinced that Brian would not escape the ramifications of his actions the night before. There was more to what Brian had done than a simple difference of opinion. He had purposefully disregarded a direct order from his general. Had Brian not been in the position that he was, such a thing would have meant his death. It amazed Justin that Brian had escaped with nothing more than the small cut on his throat.

Were it up to him, Justin would willingly sacrifice himself for Brian’s continued safety and long life. It was not right that Brian risk so much for him. Though he was still among the living, the Roman had pledged his life to Justin, willingly giving up everything that he was and everything he knew. What worried Justin was that Brian would follow through on his promises when Caesar inevitably retreated from the island. As much as he loved Brian, he would not allow the other man to betray himself in such a way.

“There you go That will greater range of motion and help ease the muscles,” Emile said, lightly patting Justin’s shoulder in dismissal. “All of which I am sure will be of great benefit once Brian returns.”

Justin pretended to be shocked by Emile’s words, a difficult task considering the grin on his face. “I am beginning to think that you are the insatiable one, Emile.”

Emile grinned at Justin over his shoulder before disappearing into the rear of the tent.

Taking the plate of fruits with him, Justin made his way back to the mound of cushions and the box of scrolls next to it. Under normal circumstances he would make use of the time to practice with his sword, but the injuries to his back prevented him. So instead he took up the second scroll of the Iliad, picking up where he’d left off the day before.

It did not take long to lose himself completely in the ancient tale of gods and heroes. His Greek wasn’t perfect and as a result he stumbled over some parts of it, but on the whole was able to understand what he read. He also enjoyed it immensely and would have gladly spent all of his free time reading the vast amount of scrolls Brian had amassed for himself.

Just as he was starting on the final column of the scroll, there was a movement near the entrance of the tent. Emile had left some time ago, but he always used the side entrance so Justin assumed that it was Brian who had returned. Setting the scroll down on his lap, Justin looked towards the entrance, the smile leaving his face when he saw who stood just inside the tent.

“Michaelo,” Justin spoke evenly as he rose stiffly to his feet, keeping his shoulders squared. “As you are most likely aware, Brian is not here.”

“How observant of you,” the dark-haired Roman responded, stepping deeper into the enclosure.

“Then why are you here?”

“To rid Brian of your menacing presence,” Michaelo said matter of factly.

Justin glared at him, keeping his gaze locked on Michaelo as the other man crossed towards him. Nor did he back down in any way. He was not about to be intimidated by Michaelo.

“Did you ever think that perhaps Brian enjoys my presence?” Justin countered, a confident smile appearing on his lips. “Craves it even?”

“You Celtic bastard,” Michaelo hissed, rushing forward with a speed that would have caught Justin off guard had he not expected the attack. Justin deftly stepped out of the way, angering Michaelo even more.

Unfortunately Justin was not able to avoid the second attack from the older man and both of them went crashing down on the ground. It was only a supreme amount of will power that kept Justin from screaming in absolute agony as he landed flat on his back with Michaelo on top of him. Pushing aside the bone deep pain, Justin shoved Michaelo off of him, rolling them over so that he was straddling the Roman’s chest.

“Even injured I can still best you, Roman,” Justin growled, leaning down so that his face was inches away from Michaelo’s. He made sure to press his knees down on Michaelo’s upper arms, immobilizing his arms. “Now it would be wise for you to simply walk away from here. Leave. You do that and I shall not inform Brian of what you attempted to do.”

“You will not be able to if you are dead,” Michaelo countered, straining to buck Justin off of him.

“You do not seriously expect me to be frightened by such a feeble threat,” Justin taunted, pressing his knees down harder which elicited a pained gasp from Michaelo.

So focused on keeping Michaelo’s arms stationary, he failed to pay any attention to his lower half. A mistake which he discovered when Michaelo brought his legs up, slamming his knees into Justin’s back. A small gasp escaped Justin’s lips and his balance faltered long enough for Michaelo to knock him away. On his stomach, Justin was unable to turn himself over before Michaelo pounced on his back. For the first time an actual cry leaked past his lips as Michaelo’s full weight was pressed onto his injuries.

Justin did his best to buck him off, but the constant agony coursing through every part of his body made his movements sluggish and uncoordinated.

“You have been nothing but an interference since you arrived and, if Brian will not kill you, I will,” Michaelo hissed in his ear.

A sharp point appeared at the base of his skull and Justin knew instantly that it was a blade of some kind. Desperation and self-preservational instincts took over and he was able to throw Michaelo off of him. In the process, Michaelo lost his grip on the short sword and it skittered away. Both men caught sight of its final resting spot at the exact same time and scrambled towards it.

The Roman latched onto it first, snatching it out of Justin’s grasp and holding it up defensively. Keeping his eyes locked on Justin, Michaelo rose slowly to his feet Justin knew that he needed to find a weapon of his own, but all of the most logical weapons-- even his own sword --were behind Michaelo.

“Even though you have somehow managed to blind Brian to your true nature, it ends now,” Michael threatened, taking a few menacing steps towards Justin who was still struggling to rise from the ground.

With a great deal of effort, Justin staggered to his feet, his back screaming in protest with each movement of his muscles. Not ready to admit defeat, Justin scanned around him for something to use as a weapon. Catching sight of a used torch on the ground a few feet away, Justin moved quickly towards it, barely able to avoid a swipe by Michaelo in his direction. He avoided a second thrust y using the thick torch to prevent the blade from stabbing into his shoulder. A kick to the stomach sent Michaelo stumbling backwards to the other side of the tent and gave Justin a momentary chance to recoup. The moment was all he was allowed because Michaelo was charging back towards him as soon as he lost his backwards momentum.

Enraged, Michaelo was easier to avoid. He swung the short sword wildly, the blade rarely coming close enough to Justin to do any damage. There were a few, however, that came very close to the mark and required the use of the torch for Justin to prevent further injuries.

Without being aware of it, Justin found himself in front of the mound of cushions he’d been sitting on just before Michaelo’s arrival. In fact, he only realized it when he found himself sprawled across it once again, Michaelo’s sword at his throat.

“It will take no effort whatsoever for me to convince Caesar that I killed you because I uncovered a plot between you and Brian to overthrow the army,” Michaelo taunted, a dark look in his eyes. “So at least you won’t spend long in Hades without him because do not doubt for one moment that Caesar kill Brian with information like that.”

“No!” Justin cried, reaching out to latch onto the blade of the short sword, his palms pressed to the flat side, unmindful of the damage that it did to his palms as he struggled to pry it away from his throat. “You will not do anything to Brian. If anything you will be the one sent to meet your underworld god.”

Michaelo laughed bitterly, a horrid smile on his face. “And, praytell, how do you intend to prevent me from inciting Brian’s downfall? You will no longer be among the living at that time.”

“It is you who shall die, Roman,” Justin insisted, wincing as his fingertips were cut by the blade he was still attempting to keep from piercing his throat.

Justin was fully aware that it was mainly the cushions that were keeping him alive. They allowed him to sink down, away from the blade’s point. He took full advantage of that, lowering himself down as much as possible in order to sustain his life Unfortunately, he could only shrink himself down so far and eventually the tip of the sword began to pierce the skin just above his left collarbone.

“No!”

Caught off guard, Justin’s grip slipped and Michaelo’s sword at last pierced deep into his flesh. Justin cried out as a new pain laced through him, his mind struggling to discern who it was that had shouted. He forced his gaze towards Michaelo’s face, surprised by the glazed expression in his eyes. Moments later, the soldier collapsed down onto him, his breathing stopped.

Only after Michaelo’s collapse was Justin able to see the third participant inn the melee.

“Brian,” Justin gasped, staring up at his lover in disbelief.

Brian seemed equally startled, his eyes wide and unseeing. In his hands he clutched Justin’s mighty broadsword, the lower portion of which was still imbedding in Michaelo’s back.

All at once, Brian seemed to come out of his reverie. He shook his head and took a step back, pulling the sword free in the process. Both he and Justin stared at the bloodied sword for a long minute before Brian became animate again and tossed the weapon to the ground. He then dropped to his knees and shoved Michaelo’s lifeless corpse to the side, away from Justin. The Roman trembled slightly as he reached out and tenderly lifted Justin into a seated position, finally releasing the pressure from his back. He reached out, his fingers coming close to the shallow wound on Justin’s shoulder, but did not touch it.

“Brian,” Justin whispered, reaching his right hand up to cup the side of his face. “Brian?”

“You were nearly taken from me,” Brian murmured more to himself than Justin, his gaze flickering once again to Michael’s fallen form. “I was very nearly shattered in two.”

Inching his way forward, Justin slid his right hand behind Brian’s head, coaxing the Roman’s face back towards his own. With his left hand, he clutched at Brian’s hip, hoping to ground him in some way.

“He tried to take you away from me,” Brian said, his eyes focusing on Justin’s face for the first time since the murder. “If I hadn’t come back....”

“The gods would not allow us to be separated,” Justin insisted, leaning his head forward so that his forehead was pressed to Brian’s. It was his hope that the contact would help to calm his lover. “They have great plans for us yet.”

“I pray that they do,” Brian whispered fervently against his cheek.

For several long minutes they remained in their silent embrace, neither one willing to part.

With an audible groan, Brian pulled away from Justin and turned his gaze once again to Michaelo. “The body must be disposed of before Caesar learns of what has occurred. Your shoulder and back also need to be tended to. Emile, I hope, will return soon to aid us, but otherwise we are on our own....”

“He was determined to bring about both our ends,” Justin informed him, halting Brian as he began to move away. “Me he intended to kill, but you he wanted to brand a traitor. It was his goal to coax Caesar into ordering your death by accusing you of teaming with me to overthrow Caesar himself.”

There was no mistaking the rage that overcame Brian’s features. “Wretched cur,” Brian growled, glaring down at the corpse. Turning back to Justin, Brian clasped the Celt’s face within his palms and leaned forward, kissing him desperately. “No one will separate you from me. I will fight to my last breath to prevent it.”

“And I will fight just as strongly,” Justin maintained, sealing the vow with another deep kiss.

As the kiss ended and the two separated once again, Justin felt himself wavering, lightheaded. Brian reacted instantly, helping to steady Justin before he collapsed backwards on the cushions.

“You stay here momentarily while I get some water to clean your wounds,” Brian instructed as he sat back on his heels. “After that I will figure out what to do about Michaelo.”

Brian made a move to stand up then, but before he could rise from his crouched position Justin grabbed hold of his arm, holding him in place. Without a word, Justin leaned forward, catching Brian’s lips in a tender kiss. Brian returned the kiss, grinning when he pulled away.

“Everything will be all right,” Brian promised. “I will make sure of it.”

When Brian moved to stand up a second time, Justin did not try to stop him. Instead he watched every movement of Brian’s lithe body as he stretched to his full height, fingers raking through his short hair.

“What happened in here?”

Both Justin and Brian turned to the main entrance of the tent. There were now two others standing within the tent; Caesar and Benvolio. One enraged, the other in shock.

“Benvolio, take the Celt into custody,” Caesar ordered, his voice harsh and clipped. “He will be executed for Michaelo’s murder.”

“He did--”

Knowing that Brian was about to protest, Justin moved as quickly as he was able and stepped in front of his lover. “I would kill him again were I able. And you as well most ignoble Caesar.”

Hearing the pained noise that escaped from Brian’s throat nearly undid Justin’s resolve. He knew full well that Brian would most likely be killed for murdering Michaelo in his defense and that was something that Justin would not allow.

It was only as he caught sight of the menacing grin on Caesar’s face that Justin began to worry. “Then you will die the day after next.”

“Why not at dawn?” Brian questioned, his voice catching.

“I believe you know the answer to that,” Caesar answered cryptically before turning to exit the tent. “See that he is taken to the forge, Benvolio, and placed under heavy guard.”

With Caesar gone, Justin stumbled, held up only by Brian’s strong arms.

“We will disappear,” Brian announced, slipping an arm around Justin’s waist, holding him tight against his side. “Give us but a few minutes and we will disappear into the forest.”

“You know that you can not disappear in broad daylight,” Benvolio countered, sorrow masking his features. “Any escape that you make will have to be made under cover of dark.”

Brian shook his head fervently. “No. I will not allow Caesar the chance to harm Justin. We leave now.”

“If you do that you will both die,” Benvolio attempted to reason with him.

“I care not,” Brian growled. “You know as well as I do what Caesar is capable of. I will not subject Justin to that.”

“You have no choice,” Justin said quietly, gazing up at Brian. “I will not risk your life, Brian.”

Before Brian had a chance to protest further, Justin slipped from his arms and crossed over to where Benvolio stood.

“Justin....” Brian moaned, reaching a hand out towards the blonde.

Justin smiled sadly and shook his head. “It must be done, Brian. You know it as well as I.”

“I will keep him safe until nightfall, Brian,” Benvolio promised. “No harm will come to him, I swear.”

With obvious reluctance, Brian lowered his eyes to the ground momentarily before nodding his consent. A single tear slid down his cheek as he looked back up at the pair.

“I love you,” Justin said softly as Benvolio guided him from the tent.

“And you are my soul’s other half,” Brian pledged, his voice strained.

Justin kept his eyes trained on Brian for as long as possible, wanting to memorize his every feature. His resolve nearly shattered as he watched Brian collapse to his knees upon their departure. As the tent flap slid close, he saw Brian drop his head to the ground, his shoulders trembling with apparent sobs.

“I’m sorry,” Justin mouthed before turning his attention forward, walking instep beside Benvolio with his head held back.

There would be no altering his decision.


	15. Edge of the World

Brian remained completely numb as the soldiers came to remove Michaelo’s body. He felt absolutely nothing for the man he had killed. Michaelo had been trying to kill Justin and something inside Brian had snapped at the sight of it. There was no possible way that he would allow anyone to harm Justin. Brian would rather die first.

Alone once again, Brian let out an unearthly roar and upended a table covered with maps and scrolls and various miniaturized war elements. The wooden stand that held his armor was the next recipient of his rage followed by anything else at a height which would create the necessary amount of destruction. In a matter of minutes, Brian had laid the main area of the tent to waste.

Yet all the destruction did nothing to lessen the volatile emotions that Brian felt slamming through his body.

Dropping to his knees in the middle of the wreckage, Brian’s eyes landed on a statuette of Alexander the Great, broken in half. Snaking the fingers of his left hand into his hair, clenching into a fist while using his right hand to pick up the top half of the ruined figure. The long dead Macedonian king had been Brian’s idol since his boyhood. A man who had surpassed even the gods themselves in his conquest of the east.

However, it was not until that moment that Brian understood the extent of Alexander’s grief upon the death of his beloved Hephaistion. The days’ long grief and lamentation, the massive funeral pyre, the planned temple.... Were it in his power Brian would go beyond even that if Justin were taken from him permanently.

Brian would take on the gods themselves to keep Justin with him.

Caesar would be only a minor point in the ultimate course of Brian’s vengeance should Justin be harmed in any lasting way.

Setting the remains of the statuette down carefully, Brian rose to his full height, his shoulders squared. He stalked over to where Justin’s sword still lay on the ground next to the mound of cushions where they had spent the night. The place where he had killed Michaelo to keep him from killing Justin. Brian leaned over to pick up the sword, testing the heavy weight before finalizing his grip on the hilt. The massive Celtic broadsword was entirely unlike his own short sword and Brian was unsure of how to use it with the same grace that Justin possessed. At best his attempts would be unwieldy. Yet Brian knew that it would cause the necessary damage.

“Give me the sword, Brian.”

Until he had spoken, Brian had not realized that Benvolio had returned. Brian looked up from his contemplation of the sword to meet his friend’s worried gaze. “It is beautiful, is it not? Such craftsmanship. Imagine how it will look sticking out of Caesar’s throat.”

“Brian, I beg of you, stop this train of thought immediately,” Benvolio pleaded as he crossed the open area of the tent. “No good will come of you making an attempt on Caesar’s life.”

“Now on that point we disagree,” Brian drawled, feeling a maniacal grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I would find it quite fitting for Caesar to end up impaled on the end of this sword. To be conquered by one of his own with a weapon of those he wants to dominate. Quite ingenious, I think.”

“That is hardly ingenious, Brian, and you know it well,” Benvolio protested, reaching a hand towards the hilt of the sword.

With a growl, Brian jerked his hand away from his friend and took several steps back, stumbling briefly over the wreckage that lay behind him. “I will not lose him, Benvolio. He is too much a part of me.”

“I do not doubt that for one moment, Brian,” Benvolio said fervently. This time Brian did not prevent him from grabbing hold of his wrist. “However, you will do no good to him if you were to slay Caesar today. All you would succeed in doing would be to get both yourself and Justin killed. Let this continue on a little and you will both be spared and reunited. For now Emile will keep him safe. He will watch over him like an eagle and protect him nearly as ferociously as you would yourself.”

Brian put up no fight as Benvolio removed the sword from his grasp. He allowed his fingers to uncurl from the worn, leather-covered hilt then backed away, holding his hand to his chest as though there was something precious contained within his palm. Brian glanced around the ruined confines of the tent aimlessly for a few moments before cutting a steadfast path to the cushions where he had shared his last embrace with the Celt. The dark fabrics did much to hide the telltale signs of Justin’s blood, but Brian’s keen eyes immediately began to spot the drying blood.

“Michaelo was about to kill him,” Brian stated, his voice void of any discernible emotion. “Justin was on his back here and Michaelo was crouched over him with a dagger pressed to his throat or somewhere thereabouts. There was no mistaking his intent, Benvolio. Nothing would satisfy him short of Justin’s death and that was something I could not allow. I killed him knowing what the consequences would be for myself. At that moment I did not care-- I still do not --of what should happen to me so long as Justin continues to live.”

Benvolio carefully set the sword down on the ground then moved to stand before Brian, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “If Justin has chosen to shoulder the blame of Michaelo’s murder I do not doubt that he shares your devotion.”

Brian let out a mirthless laugh and sunk down onto the place that had so nearly become his lover’s deathbed. “Were you aware that I did, and still do, have every intention of remaining behind here once Caesar departs? Last night I swore to Justin that I would remain here with him always. And that he.... Justin tried to convince me otherwise because he said that he would not force me to give up my home which he knows is important to me. A truth which will never be altered. However, the family that I had by blood is now buried beneath the waves somewhere between Rome and Greece. Lindsai and Augustus are lost to me, but I will not lose Justin nor will I part him from his home.”

“Brian, you have to know that Caesar would not let you go,” Benvolio protested. “You are too valuable to him.”

“You speak as though he has a choice in the matter,” Brian hissed, his eyes flashing briefly in Benvolio’s direction.

Crossing the distance between them, Benvolio crouched down before Brian, searching out his gaze. “You know just as well as I do, Brian, that he does. At the moment your life is Caesar’s to command.”

“Were that true, Justin would be dead already,” Brian drawled drunkenly, though he was completely sober. “I would have killed him last night on the command of all mighty Caesar. But, as you saw only a short while ago, Justin is still very much alive.”

Towards the end of that final statement, Brian’s voice faded almost below a whisper. He stared straight ahead, his eyes seeing nothing in the actual world. Instead he saw once again the scenes that had flashed in his mind when he had been in the midst of training his men. Of the battle between Justin and Michaelo that had taken place within the very confines of the tent. It was those images and the sound of Justin’s pained cry echoing within his mind that had sent Brian rushing towards his tent in order to spare his lover from further harm.

Only to arrive too late. By the time he had burst into the tent the only course of action had been to kill Michaelo, an act which in itself Brian did not regret. He would do anything within his power, and even beyond it, to keep Justin safe.

“Brian, if I go, do you promise to remain here?” Benvolio inquired, his hand on Brian’s shoulder grounding the other man. “Because, if you will not, I shall place you under guard. You will be of no help to Justin if you anger Caesar more than you have already.”

Brian glared at his friend his temper bubbling to the surface once again.

“I am wholly serious, Brian. I need your answer,” Benvolio insisted.

“I will not purposely seek out Caesar,” Brian ground out. “Is that answer enough for you?”

Benvolio bowed his head, staring at the ground for several long moments. “I want you both to be safe, Brian. Do not destroy yourself. You need to survive only until the sun dips below the horizon. Once darkness comes then you can take Justin from here.”

“What is to stop me from taking him at this very moment?” Brian countered, rising to his feet and moving around Benvolio to stalk to the place where the sword had been left. “It is within my power. I inform the guards that I want to avenge Michaelo’s murder by killing the Celt with his own sword. I take him out into the forest and together we disappear.”

Brian’s logic was faulted, he knew, however he would not be deviated from his course. He would not grant Caesar the time that was necessary to harm Justin.

“I implore you, Brian, stop these insanities this instant,” Benvolio pleaded, rushing in front of Brian to grip the other man’s face in his large hands. “You will succeed in nothing save hastening your own end. An end which Justin is doing his utmost to prevent; placing his own life in jeopardy in the process.”

Rather than grounding his errant emotions, Benvolio’s words succeeded in nothing short of turning his desolation into a frightening rage.

“You know nothing!” Brian roared, forcing the sword into the ground between their feet. “Have you no conception of what Justin has done? He has placed himself within the serpent’s grasp and will no doubt be squeezed unto his very death.”

“You are being entirely too dramatic,” Benvolio said to him, crossing the carpeted expanse to where Brian stood. “You know as well as I that Caesar will do nothing to Justin before dawn. He would much rather let the tension build in him so that he will be half undone by fear before Caesar even sets eyes on him once again. That means Justin will be safe until it is time for you to go to rescue him.”

Any words that Benvolio said after that point Brian did not hear. He allowed his mind to retreat beyond the physical realm. It was the only way he had survived his time as a prisoner in the Celtic camp back on the mainland. For Brian knew that if he were to allow himself to think to much of what could befall Justin, he would surely go mad.

Instead, Brian focused his attentions on planning a viable escape route for himself and Justin. Because of the location of Justin’s temporary prison close to the center of the camp, it would all have to be planned carefully. One false move would result in Justin’s instant death. Brian knew that he would be dead as well, but he did not care in the least. From this point on, his life was tied to Justin’s. Should his lover be killed, Brian promised himself that he would not be long for the world.

For the next few hours, Brian meticulously plotted the path he and Justin would take from the camp. With various trinkets and other oddities collected from his earlier destruction of his belongings, Brian created a very likeness of the camp to use a reference as he designed a variety of roots that could be taken in order to guide himself and Justin to safety. He refused all offers of food from Emile and became enraged when the other man attempted to clear away the northeast section of the makeshift camp.

“Master, please, you need to eat something,” Emile spoke up, his voice tinged with concern. “The sun is set and you have no eaten since morning.”

The words were no sooner out of Emile’s mouth than Brian felt the world fall back into focus. He was on his feet in an instant, arming himself with all of the weapons he could carry wearing only a simple tunic and leggings. He purposely chose to forego his armor for not only would it cause speculation of his intentions among the Romans, but also the Celts once Brian was able to return Justin to the safety of his own people.

“Master, be still a moment,” Emile entreated, reaching for Brian as he walked past him.

“I have been still long enough,” Brian protested as he lifted Justin’s sword from the ground. “I should never have allowed Justin to be taken from me. It was a folly on my part that I must now make right. I shall not be still until I have Justin safe with me once again.”

On his next attempt, Emile managed to grasp hold of Brian’s arm, forcing the soldier to meet his gaze. “And what is to become of me once you and Justin disappear into the wilds of this land?” 

In all honesty, Brian had failed to consider what would become of his faithful servant after his defection from the Roman army. His mind had been focused solely on his lover and had ignored all factors that didn’t ultimately concern Justin’s freedom. Presented with the problem, Brian could think of only one viable solution that had been set into motion long ago, but that he had long forgotten about.

“You will return to Rome with Melanus and take up possession of the villa and all its belongings,” Brian informed the other man. “There are documents held in trust for me by the Vestals that name you as the sole beneficiary of my estate should Lindsai and Augustus no longer live. You shall be given your freedom and be provided for for the rest of your life.”

Emile pressed a hand to his chest, his eyes going wide. “My master, how can.... Surely you can not be serious.”

“I am entirely serious,” Brian assured his flustered servant. “Your freedom was to be granted upon my death in any event and you were to be left with a sizable sum of money with which to create a life for yourself. That Lindsai and Augustus are dead means that you are now to inherit all that would have been left to them for after tonight the Romans will believe me dead.”

“Dead?” Emile gasped. “Surely you do not mean to give up Rome entirely.”

Brian allowed his shoulders to drop, a wry smile crossing his lips. “The notion of Rome is something I gave up long ago. I had planned to remain behind with Justin regardless only now I am more spurred to the cause.”

Leaving Emile standing in a shocked silence, Brian lifted Justin’s heavy broadsword from the ground, wrapping it in a thin blanket and tying a cord to it at both ends so that he could loop it over his shoulder. He then donned a dark cloak that would mask his figure as he fled the camp with Justin in tow. Atop that he wore a second cloak which would be for Justin to hide his brilliant golden hair. The two heavy cloaks helped to hide the presence of the Celt’s sword and for the rest Brian counted on the darkness of night.

“You are a good man, Emile, and I pray that the gods grant you a life worthy of your virtues,” Brian said, clasping a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I have only one further request to make of you and then I will ask no more of you in this lifetime.”

“Anything, my master. Name it and it shall be done,” Emile declared fervently.

Brian smiled fondly at the other man, giving his shoulder a slight squeeze. “The chest of scrolls that contain the works of Plato, Sophocles and the other famous Greeks. If it is possible to do so without you placing yourself fin harm’s way, I would ask that you take the small chest and leave it concealed at the heated spring that was discovered just after our arrival here.”

“It will be done, my master,” Emile pledged meeting Brian’s gaze fully. “Have no fear.”

“I trust you implicitly,” Brian murmured, adjusting the cloaks around himself. “Farewell, Emile.”

“My master,” Emile whispered solemnly.

“No longer,” Brian said with a tongue in cheek smirk before turning to leave the tent.

And his life as a Roman soldier.

Brian moved through the shadows, taking a roundabout route on his way to the forge where Justin was being held. He would have rather gone directly to where Justin was, wanting to have his lover back with him safe. It would be far from safe however since it would make his intentions seem obvious and would destroy all that was to come. He would lose Justin just as surely as he would his own life.

In following a less direct route, it took Brian longer than he would have liked to traverse the space between his tent and Justin. The trip took even longer as Brian was stopped several times by various soldiers were after an account of what had taken place in his tent. Brian managed to put them off, promising that he would give a full description the following day which appeased the curious soldiers.

The instant that Brian’s gaze landed on Justin’s bound form, he felt the insanity once again clawing at the edges of his mind. The blonde’s back was to him so Brian was given an unobstructed view of the damage he had inflicted on him. Justin was seated cross-legged on the ground, his wrists bound before him and fastened to a stake in the ground. On either side of him were guards who stood as menacing sentries. Brian was relieved by the fact that he recognized both men and was confident that they would allow him audience with Justin alone.

“Tibellus! Antonius!” Brian barked as he emerged from behind one of the temporary structures that served as the forge.

“Sir!” the soldier cried in greeting, spinning round to face Brian.

Forcing Justin from his mind, Brian gave out his orders, insisting that the two men vacate their posts momentarily so that he could have a few minutes with the barbarian who had murdered his friend. Aware of Brian’s temperament and that his anger was out in full force at the moment the pair readily agreed after first gaining Brian’s promise that he would leave Justin alive at the end of the meeting.

Brian waited until the two soldiers were out of earshot before making any move towards Justin. Even then he did not embrace his lover, but rather forced himself to remain cold and aloof for appearances sake.

“I am going to make it appear as though you escape and take me as your hostage,” Brian said softly, an angry glare contradicting his words.

“No.”

The single syllable response caught Brian completely unawares. He had not, for one moment, even considered that Justin would refuse him. His entire plan rested on Justin’s compliance.

“Justin, we do not have the time to argue the point,” Brian ground out. “We must do this now for we will not be given a second chance.”

Justin shook his head sadly, his intense blue eyes locking on Brian’s face. “This is something which I must do, Brian. You have sacrificed too much on my account--”

“Nothing was sacrificed!” Brian insisted, drawing a dagger from his waist and kneeling before Justin in preparation of cutting his lover free.

“Cut the binds and I shall call back the guards,” Justin told him bluntly. “You will not take me from this place, Brian. I have come to this point by choice.”

“Justin, please,” Brian moaned, bowing his head forward. “Do not ask me to leave without you because I can not do it. I will not.”

“The choice is not yours to make,” Justin told him. “I would rather die knowing that my death guarantees your safety than to live and put you in greater danger.”

Reaching out, Brian cupped Justin’s chin in his hand palm. “Please, Justin. You do not realize what you are setting yourself up to endure. Just please come with me. It will take us only minutes to be free from Caesar’s reach.”

“I will do no such thing,” Justin insisted, leaning into Brian’s touch. “Now go, they are returning.”

“General, is anything amiss?” Antonius called from behind him.

Dropping his head down, Brian reluctantly pulled away from Justin. “I will not allow you to die, Justin. I swear to it.”

Still hidden from the guards by Brian’s body, Justin smiled sadly at his lover.

“I almost feel pity for you for your life will be worthless once Caesar is finished with you,” Brian hissed, feeling the tears picking at the back of his eyes.

Taking one final look at his lover’s bound form, Brian rose to his full height and stalked in the exact opposite direction of his tent.

North towards the location of the Celtic village where Justin was from.


	16. Edge of the World

Watching Brian stalk away, Justin knew he had made a mistake. He should have gone with him. At least Justin had done what he had set out to. Brian had been cleared of Michaelo’s murder and was safe.... From the Romans. If Justin’s assumption was correct and Brian was heading towards his village then Justin would be far from safe whether he knew it or not at the time.

Ignoring the soldiers standing guard over him, Justin kept his gaze locked on Brian’s retreating form. At one point Brian turned his head to the left in order to speak to someone and Justin was able to see his face in profile. The details were obscured by distance and darkness, but Justin’s memory was able to fill in what was missing. In his mind, he could see Brian’s face so clearly, having been imprinted there from the very first moment he had seen the brooding Roman. Justin managed to keep his eyes on Brian until he was swallowed up smoke.

Then Justin resolved not to think of him again until the very end.

A reservation which solidified for him the following morning when Caesar appeared before him.

At some point Justin knew he must have slept. He had not meant to, but it had happened in any event. It was the only way to explain his sudden return to consciousness as a result of a solid kick to his ribs. His body jerked slightly out of reflex, but other than that gave no indication that he was in the weaker position.

“I know full well that you can understand both Latin and Greek,” the powerful Roman general said as he stood towering over Justin. “So do not think for one moment that you can hide behind that weak defense. You will tell me what it is that I wish to know. Do it promptly and your end will be quick and painless. Resist and in the end you will be begging for your death.”

The cold, emotionless way in which the words were spoken filled Justin with a sense of dread. Even so, Justin had no intentions of giving up his people or implicating Brian in any way.

So Justin remained silent.

The questions that Caesar asked were all defensive in nature. The general wanted to know the number of able bodied fighters The relation between Justin’s tribe and neighbouring ones. The extent of their defenses. The succession of power within the clan. And many others which Justin purposely tuned out.

Each question was met with defiant silence and a blanket stare.

“Whether you cooperate or not, I will conquer this miserable island and all its inhabitants,” Caesar hissed, his eyes boring into Justin who remained ever silent. “Your people will become slaves to the glory that is Rome. Nothing you do now will alter this.”

When Justin still said nothing, Caesar’s anger seemed to reach its breaking point. Raging, the Roman general shouted for the two soldiers who had been guarding Justin since the midpoint of the night to tie Justin’s arms between two of the building that made up the temporary forge. A look of obvious shock passed between the soldiers when Justin did nothing to resist their manipulations. Justin allowed himself to be maneuvered between the two wooden structures and managed to contain a pained gasp as his injured shoulder was stretched up and out so that he was practically hanging between the buildings.

“I will give you one final chance to answer my questions,” Caesar said, walking forward until he stood barely a hand span away from the bound Celt.

Tilting his head down slightly so that he could meet the eyes of the aging soldier, Justin said in absolutely perfect Latin, “I have always heard that the mighty general of the Roman army was the result of a union between a woman and an ass. I had not thought those rumors to be true.”

Justin watched with detached amusement as the last vestiges of restraint left Caesar. An angry flush coloured his weathered cheeks and his eyes darkened.

“Marius!” Caesar bellowed, his gaze never wavering from Justin’s taunting smirk.

A smirk that Justin did his utmost to maintain as the stinging whip began to slash across his back. The wounds that already covered his back were still raw which made the pain all the more intense and his task that much harder. Still, Justin did not utter a single sound even as his features screwed up in pain. He would not be seen as weak nor give up anything to Caesar.

After roughly twenty blows, Caesar must have realized that Justin would not break that way because he called for Marius to stop.

“These stoic ideals of yours will not preserve you for long,” Caesar growled, sinking his fingers into Justin’s hair and forcing his head up. “You will tell me what it is I want to know. The sooner you do, the sooner your pain will end.”

“There is nothing you can do to me that I do not willingly endure,” Justin hissed through clenched teeth.

A truth which would have enraged Caesar if he had known its origins.

“Let us put that to the test, shall we?”

Justin was unceremoniously cut down, his body dropping like a stone. Before he could even attempt to push himself up off the ground, the two soldiers grabbed him under his arms and dragged him a short distance before depositing him on the ground once again. Looking up, Justin saw something which he knew was meant to fill him with terror and dread.

A Roman cross, set down on an angle so that an end of each wooden planks touch the ground.

In short order, Justin was trussed up, a limb tied tightly to each protruding end of the cross. He attempted to arch his back away from the wood which was pressing painfully into the fresh weals, but a firm hand and another length of rope prevented him. Then Caesar’s fingers once again clasped Justin’s hair in a tight fist, jerking his head back.

“You are fortunate that I need for you to remain coherent else I would use these to fasten you to the cross,” Caesar taunted, leaning in to drag the sharpened end of a nail along the side of Justin’s cheek. “As it is, there are other methods I will employ in order to coax the information I require from you before I resort to more barbaric methods.”

Methods, Justin was soon to discover, would put his limits to the test. Many times Justin came close to revealing all that Caesar wanted to know if only the pain would end. His mouth would open as though to answer one of the general’s questions, but at the last possible moment would revert his words to Celtic gibberish.

After a time, those mindless words became endearments directed at his absent lover. He screamed his love for the Roman soldier for all to hear, though none would comprehend the words.

“... sign of Brian.... dead....”

Those four words sent Justin’s mind screaming back to the present. He searched his memories for the rest of the sentences, for any way to rationalize what he had heard. He would not believe that Brian was dead. The reason that Justin was enduring all of this was so that Brian would remain safe from harm.

“I want Brian found and I want him found now!” Caesar bellowed. “I will not be robbed of one of my finest soldiers. So either find him and bring him back alive or deliver me the ones responsible for his demise.”

Even though it meant a return of the pain, Justin forced himself to remain coherent. He needed to know what had happened to Brian after he had wandered away the night before. Justin had spent enough time with the Roman to know that he did not like to be in a situation where he was not in control. Brian was most assuredly not in control of the situation any longer. Justin had taken that away from him when he refused to escape with him. A mistake on his part Justin now realized. He should have done what Brian had wanted only, at the time, Justin had been in fear for Brian’s own safety. The only way he had been able to think of to keep Brian safe was to place himself in harm’s way.

“You had best pray that Brian is found alive and unharmed else you will be the one to suffer the consequences,” Caesar threatened, getting in close to Justin once again.

“An... an emp-ty... threat,” Justin stammered, doing everything possible to keep his head up under his own power. “I am t-to die... tomorrow.... as... it... is.”

Caught on his bluff, Caesar brought the nail back to the underside of Justin’s jaw, the tip digging into his flesh.

“Even if I did know... where Brian was... I would... I would not tell you,” Justin ground out with great difficulty, a slight coppery taste in his mouth from him having bitten his lip through at some point during the day.

“You will tell me where my soldier is,” Caesar ground out.

Justin met Caesar’s glare as best as he was able, doing his best to keep his head from nodding forward. With nothing behind to act as a support, it was difficult for him to keep his head upright. It was only through sheer determination that Justin managed the task. At least until Caesar stalked away. Only then did Justin allow his body to go limp, his body finally giving into the pain.

He could not be certain, but Justin was pretty sure that he passed out at some point. He was desperate from a respite from the pain, to regain his center and prepare for what he knew would come the following morning. In any event, in what felt like the blink of an eye the world around him went from light to dark.

His eyes opened to tiny slits, Justin scanned the surrounding area as best his could. A sense of relief filled him when he realized that he could see no sign of any Roman soldiers.

Then there was a flicker of movement to his right.

Justin whimpered slightly as a figure moved between the fire and him. He could not quite coax his eyes to open entirely to see whether the person was a threat or not. Of course, with Brian gone that person could only be a threat. The fact that the figure remained between him and the fire for several long seconds only confirmed that in Justin’s mind.

“Justin.”

Moaning, Justin attempted to curl away from the voice. He could not determine why he was unable to move which caused him to panic and struggle against the binds that he could not see. He felt as though he were being pulled in all directions.

“Justin,” the voice repeated, much closer than it had been before. 

The voice was familiar and Justin knew that he should have recognized it only....

“Justin, can you hear me?”

There was a bit of recognition in Justin’s mind as he struggled to match the voice with a face that was not responsible for causing him pain.

“Bennnnn....” Justin moaned, struggling to turn his head in the direction of the Roman’s voice. With the exception of Brian, Benvolio’s voice offered the most amount of comfort that Justin could hope for at the time. “Bri... Brian..... Where’s Brian?”

“Come, Justin, let me get you down from here,” Benvolio murmured, blatantly avoiding his question.

One by one, Justin felt his limbs being released from whatever position it was they were being held in. When the first of his arms was untied, Justin felt himself begin to fall forward, but was held up by Benvolio who stood in front of him. Benvolio was supporting him completely when his right arm was cut free and his body collapsed bonelessly.

“Easy, Justin. Easy. I have you now and I am going to take you back to my tent,” Benvolio said quietly as he carefully maneuvered his shoulder under Justin’s arm. 

Benvolio moved very slowly, something for which Justin was incredibly grateful because every part of his body capable of feeling sensation burned with each movement. Much of what had happened during the day was actually lost somewhere in the shadows that filled his mind, but not all of it.

“Where’s Brian?” Justin asked as he was guided into a tent that most assuredly did not belong to his lover. “I heard... heard someone that they could... couldn’t find him....”

“Justin! Oh you poor boy!”

Between Benvolio and Emile, Justin found himself laid out on a relatively comfortable surface. He was placed on his side, cushions propped up against his stomach to help keep him in place. Justin tried to move, but Emile’s hands on his shoulders kept him in place because he was too weak to move on his own.

“Rest easy, my boy,” Emile instructed in a gentle tone as he began to dab at Justin’s back with a wet cloth. “Soon the pain will be less.”

Justin was desperate to know where Brian was and whether he was all right, but could not seem to get the words past his lips. Keeping his eyes open was equally difficult. Soon, Justin felt himself beginning to drift off. He was conscious of only segments of conversations, but could make none of the pieces fit together in any rational order. 

Then, after a time, there was only Emile’s voice, speaking softly to him. “.... very foolish boy. You should have disappeared with my master as he had intended. The both of you would be safe and it is unlikely that my master would be plotting whatever means he has in mind for your escape.”

“Brian....” Justin moaned, moving slightly to figure out his body’s current position. He cried out as he stretched his back, but was able to determine that he was still resting on his side.

“Try not to move, Justin,” Emile murmured as his hand came to rest momentarily against Justin’s cheek.

Forcing his eyes open, Justin’s gaze focused first on the servant’s knee then, without moving his head, lifted up to Emile’s face. “Please, Emile.... I need to... to know where Brian is....”

“I wish that I could tell you where he is,” Emile said sadly, meeting Justin’s exhausted gaze. “Unfortunately there has been no sign of my master since he came to visit you last night.”

“The fool,” Justin groaned, the remnants of his meal from the day before threatening to come rushing back out the same way it had entered. Each movement, no matter how minuscule, caused almost blinding amounts of pain to course through Justin’s battered body. Still Justin would not be stopped. He needed to get to Brian before the Roman was given the chance to do anything foolish. “You... you must help me, Emile. I must get to Brian.... Pl-please....”

Though he had barely moved at all, Justin was having great difficulty keeping his eyes open as sleep threatened to claim him once again.

“There is nothing you can do at present,” Emile said quietly, his voice filled with concern. “You need to rest and build your strength back up.”

“For what?” Justin gasped out, centering all of his remaining energy into a single motion, heaving himself up on his elbows. He swallowed repeatedly to keep the bile down and turned his head to meet Emile’s eyes once again. “I w-will be dead... dead by... the time the s-s... sun sets tom-morrow.... And if w-we are not... careful.... Brian will joi-oin m-mme in the... in the afterlife.”

No longer able to support himself, Justin allowed Emile to help him back down onto the flooring of furs and carpets. Even knowing his limitations, Justin was still desperate to get to his lover. When he had last seen him, Brian was heading in the direction of his village. He did not know what the Roman was hoping to accomplish for no good could come of Brian attempting a treaty of sorts with the Celts. Whatever their relations, Justin knew that his father would not see Brian’s presence as an advantage. If anything, Craig would regard Brian as a threat and kill him without hesitation.

“I know my master well,” Emile said softly, smoothing Justin’s damp bangs away from his forehead. “You will not die tomorrow. He would rather die himself than let you die. At this moment, he is doing everything within his power to ensure that you will live out tomorrow and a great many more days to come.”

Justin shook his head slightly, breathing heavily. “N... nnn... no.... Be killed....”

“You will not be killed, Justin,” Emile insisted, moving away from Justin for a brief moment, returning almost immediately. “Now here, drink up. You need fluids in you to build up your strength just as much as you require sleep.”

“Brian....” Justin moaned, lifting his gaze once more to Emile. “Brian will be... be killed....”


	17. Edge of the World

Four times Brian had nearly gone back to drag Justin with him despite the Celt’s protests. Knowing Justin the way he did, Brian had still not considered the possibility that Justin would refuse an escape. It was completely foolhardy on Justin’s part, but Brian should have expected no less from him.

Which meant that Brian had to quickly create a plan to rescue his entirely too noble lover. He cursed himself for not having considered this contingency knowing Justin the way he did. Justin had already put his life on the line by claiming guilt of a murder he did not commit so it was no far stretch of the imagination for Justin to continue on the path he had set for himself.

Even were he able to implement his plan down to the very last detail, there was still a chance that Justin would be killed. The only plan that Brian could come up with was a very vague one that would not necessarily even work. There were simply too many variables that could not be accounted for yet, under the circumstances, Brian could offer no better chance for Justin’s survival.

The most difficult factor of all would be convincing the Celts that his intentions were honorable and that he had no plans to betray them in the end. That he was Roman would make it difficult enough, but Brian had no intentions of failing. He would not allow Justin to die for a long time.

“Did you not learn your lesson the last time, Roman?” a voice called from somewhere in the foliage. “Your gods must be quite fond of you if you are even alive at this time. That arrow should have killed you weeks ago.”

Brian smirked slightly, continuing on in the direction of Justin’s village. “I am blessed. The gods seem to be quite adamant that I survive for the time being.”

“Your gods, perhaps, but not mine,” the Celt snickered and this point Brian was able to pinpoint the voice as coming from his right.

Without responding to the nearby Celt, Brian slowly made his way through the dense underbrush to where he assumed the other man was. He had not been foolish enough to think that he would be able to reach the village without being discovered. The Celts were very well defended, evidenced by the fact that Caesar had yet to conquer them. Given the defenses their island home provided, Brian could only hope that they would be able to maintain their freedom long enough for Caesar to grow bored and call for a retreat.

“If you are wise, you will not kill me before I am able to speak to your chieftain,” Brian said casually as he continued on towards the unseen Celt. “I have information that he will find most valuable.”

“There is nothing you could offer that he would want,” the man insisted, this time sounding as though he were behind Brian.

“Not even if it ensured his son’s survival?” Brian questioned as he attempted to reorient himself.

Not knowing the woods anywhere near as much as he would be comfortable with, Brian was virtually lost as he traveled through the moonlight darkness. Without the aid of sunlight, Brian knew only directions and had counted on at least one of the Celtic sentries to spot him and lead him directly to the village.

“And we are to believe that you would go out of your way to save a Celt?” the voice questioned, sounding quite amused.

“Believe whatever you will,” Brian shrugged, positioning himself so that he was hopefully facing in the same direction as the sentry. “The fact remains that I know what must be done in order to ensure Justin escapes his planned execution.”

In the next moment, Brian found himself sprawled face-first on the ground, a heavy body crouched on top of him to keep him pinned to the ground. Even though every instinct in his body was shouting for him to do otherwise, Brian remained perfectly still so as not to pose a threat. It was a challenge, though, especially when his hands were yanked behind his back. Then Brian had to breathe deeply in order to keep the nausea from overtaking him. In those moments, everything he had been struggling to put behind him in the past months surged to the surface.

Brian was thrown off as he was hauled onto his feet and discovered that he was completely surrounded by Celts. Though he should have known that the woods would be well guarded, he had not known that there were so many of them in the immediate area.

Before Brian could once again plead his case, he felt his body begin to crumple. It was only after the fact that he became aware of the thump as he was hit over the head with something hard.

In what seemed like only a single blink, Brian found himself awake with a groan. He tried to move and a bolt of pain flashed through his skull, bringing a pained cry from his lips. It was on his second attempt at moving that Brian realized he was bound. His legs were fastened together and his arms were tied behind his back. Gritting hi teeth together, Brian rolled over onto his back and carefully sat himself up, managing to do so without the world spinning around him.

When he saw what surrounded him, Brian almost wished that he had remained unconscious.

Brian had awoken in the midst of one of his most prominent nightmares.

He was located on the ground close to a smoldering fire pit, stripped of all but his tunic and leggings. All of the weaponry he had taken with him had been removed and placed within sight of where he was in order to taunt him. The only one of them not there was Justin’s broadsword.

There were a pair of well armed Celts standing guard over him while others milled about in the open area surrounding the firepit. Brian breathed deeply, willing the tremors shaking his body to stop. While rationally he knew that he was not in the same position he had been when he had been a prisoner previously, he was having difficulty convincing his mind of that very fact. It was all too much like it had been in past and stirred up frightening memories in Brian.

“I am here to see your chieftain, Craig ab Gwydion,” Brian said in a clear voice which seemed to catch the two men unawares. Only when he was sure that he had their attention did Brian continue. “I have information about his son Justin.”

“And why should you be believed, Roman dog?” one of the warriors demanded, holding the point of his broadsword against Brian’s throat.

Brian glared up at him unflinchingly. “I could care less whether you believe me or not. But I can assure you that if you chose to ignore me, Justin will be dead by this time tomorrow. Executed for a murder he did not commit.”

“Why should you care whether my son lives or dies?”

Turning his head to the left, Brian squinted against the sunlight to make out the man striding towards him. Justin’s father. A man who would only acknowledge his son when it served his purposes. Though he had never met the man before, Brian knew that he did not like him. There was an arrogance to his voice that instantly aggravate his already frazzled nerves.

“I will not ask you again, what is my son to you?” Craig demanded, coming to stand beside the man with the sword to Brian’s throat, crossing his arms over his chest.

“A worthless savage the same as yourself,” Brian said with a tongue in cheek smirk. He leaned back, away from the sword that was pressed more forcefully against his throat. “He does, however, present the perfect opportunity for me to gain my vengeance against Caesar who is equally as arrogant as you.”

“Kill him.”

Brian dropped down onto his back completely and used the backwards momentum plus his well developed leg muscles to spin himself heals over head so that he came up again kneeling a few feet away from the armed guards.

“You will want to listen to me,” Brian stated calmly, awkwardly repositioning his body with his legs and arms bound. On his knees, it took Brian only a moment to maneuver himself up to a standing position. “Now what say you untie me so that we can discuss how we can be mutually be beneficial to one another.”

Craig cocked his head to the side, giving Brian a once over before turning away and nodding to the man who stood just behind him on his right. “Kido, get as much information from the Roman as you can then kill him.”

“If you want to get rid of the Romans you need me,” Brian shouted after him. “Otherwise it will only be a matter of time before Caesar’s army will conquer this little island of yours.”

Pausing momentarily, Craig turned back to Brian, a confident smirk on his face. “All that we need is the information you possess, Roman. Once we gain that I have no qualms about killing you. In fact, I will take great pleasure in being responsible for your death.”

“You will not get any information out of me in the manner you have planned,” Brian informed the smug chieftain. “I have been through this routine before and your mainland counterparts failed to gain any information from me despite their best efforts. The extremes that they went to did not so much as make a dent.”

“I am sure that we can surpass those extremes,” Craig said, sounding quite bored.

“Or we can move beyond it and bring down Caesar together,” Brian offered, doing his best to remain upright, his balance precarious because his feet were bound together. “We both want him gone from this world so put your pride behind you and--”

Brian’s words were cut off as he was knocked to the ground, the wind knocked out of him because he was unable to put his hands forward to slow his descent. Before Brian even had the chance to react there was someone straddling his hips and crushing his hands into the small of his back. Brian struggled against the rising panic he fleet in the pit of his stomach. His earlier nausea had returned and there was a painful throbbing at his temples.

_“I wonder, Roman, just how loud I can make you scream,” a gravelly voice hissed in his ear._

_There was a deep chuckle and Brian could feel a trail of saliva that was not his own running down his cheek and into the dirt below his head. His leggings had been disposed of long before so there was nothing to act as a barrier between his skin and that of the savage crouching over top of him as he released his own trousers._

Not wanting to be made that vulnerable again and having it no longer serve his purpose, Brian brought his legs up, kicking the Celt in the center of his back, throwing the man off balance. Using that to his advantage, Brian rolled onto his side which knocked the other man onto the ground. In the blink of an eye, Brian was the one pinning the Celt to the ground, a knee over his windpipe ensuring that he did not move.

“This is the final time I make my offer,” Brian growled, glaring up at Craig who could only stare at him in shock. “Will you accept my offer or no?”

The two seasoned fighters continued their silent battle of wills, neither willing to relent. It was another force that brought an end to the stalemate. One that Brian would not have expected.

“Release him now,” a red-haired woman shouted as she stalked into the middle of the stand-off. “Craig, you have tormented the poor boy enough. Release him so that he can help us get Justin back.”

“Mother, go back to your business. This does not concern you,” Craig ground out, his eyes never straying from Brian.

“Justin is my grandson and I care about him greatly,” the older woman protested, coming to stand between her son and Brian. “If this man can help us save Justin then you should accept his help. You should be jumping at the opportunity for him aid in returning your son.”

“He is a Roman, mother,” Craig all but growled, sneering in Brian’s direction before turning his full attention to his mother. “He only intends to betray us in the end. It is his intent to undermine us so that we will all die alongside with Justin. If my son’s death will ensure the safety of the rest of this village so be it.”

“I have no intention of betraying you,” Brian insisted, turning the focus back to himself. The man below him attempted to shove him off but stopped when Brian pressed his knee harder against his throat he stilled once again. “Caesar is the betrayer. He has cost me my family and now I intend to make him pay. Regardless of whether I have your assistance or not, I will not allow Justin to be killed tomorrow.”

The woman spun around, staring down at Brian in surprise. “Why is my grandson so important to you?”

“It is what he represents that is important to me,” Brian told her, suppressing the truth. That he would give his life for Justin if the circumstances came to it. “To Caesar, Justin’s death would be nothing more than a political statement. By now he has undoubtedly figured out what Justin’s role in your village is and will use that to his advantage. I want to prevent that and to do so will be much easier if I have your assistance.”

“You care about my grandson,” she stated, challenging Brian to contradict her words.

“I do not believe he has done anything to warrant what Caesar has planned for him,” Brian countered, not intending to make himself any more vulnerable than he already was. “It will be recorded that he was executed for the murder of Michaelo Decimus Grassius. The only problem is that Justin did not kill him. I did and can not in good conscience allow Justin to be killed for a murder I committed.”

That alone seemed to give Craig pause. He was purposefully avoiding looking at Brian as he scratched at the side of his throat while staring into the flames of the firepit. The Roman hoped that it would be enough to finally convince Craig that his intentions were honorable.

“Release him, Kido,” Craig sighed loudly, obviously annoyed by his mother’s interference and he fact that he appeared to be bowing to her wishes. “But I want the Roman kept under close guard. I do not trust him for one moment and neither should anyone else here.”

There were many things that Brian wanted to say to the domineering Celt. The only problem was that each and every one of those things would give away his true feelings for Justin and his desperation about the blonde’s current predicament. Knowing Justin’s stubborn determination, Brian did not doubt for one moment that he was suffering Caesar’s wrath to its fullest extent.

“It is about time that you saw sense,” Brian grumbled as he rose stiffly to his feet, rubbing his raw wrists. “Your son now stands a chance of surviving.”

Free now, Brian felt as though he were on a much more even keel with the chieftain. While he was not exactly free to do as he pleased, he was able to move much more freely. For one thing he could much easily defend himself. He kept himself on guard, knowing that at any moment he could be made vulnerable once again.

“What is happening to my grandson?” the woman demanded, turning her full attention to Brian.

“You must be Dedra. Justin has spoken quite fondly of you,” Brian drawled, searching his memory for all that Justin had told him of his family. “As for what is happening to him... at this very moment that is difficult to be certain of. What I can assure you is that he will be killed at sunrise tomorrow. Caesar will take great pleasure in relieving Justin of his head.”

Dedra gasped, placing a hand over her ample bosom. “If Justin did not murder this man, why is he being made to suffer for it?”

Brian pursed his lips, bowing his head slightly. “Justin is to be executed because he confessed to the murder before I was able to. When I tried to make things right and help Justin escape last night he refused which is why I am here now. I refuse to allow Justin to die for something he did not do.”

“You expect me to believe that my son has agreed to his own murder to prevent your death?” Craig chuckled mirthlessly.

Brian stabbed his fingers into his hair and let out a loud breath. “How do you think I learned to speak your tongue? I would not be able to speak Celtic on my own if I had not had help. Namely from your son. In return for teaching me the language of the people who tormented me when I was held captive, I would keep him from suffering the same fate I had. Being the honorable man that he is, Justin confessed to killing Michaelo because I had killed him in his defense.”

Pursing his lips, Brian silently cursed himself for revealing so much. He had momentarily lost control of his emotions, but it had been long enough for his desperation to bleed through into his voice and expression.

“I can help you save Justin,” Brian pleaded, his eyes boring into Craig’s.

“Before I am willing to agree to any plan you have in mind, I want proof from you that you have abandoned your Roman ties,” Craig insisted, crossing his arms over his chest.


	18. Edge of the World

“.... volio.... You must wake now, Benvolio.”

Turning his head in the direction of the voice, Benvolio slowly blinked his eyes open. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dim light and identify the person hovering over him.

“Emile? What are you doing here?” Benvolio sat up, pushing the blankets off of his body so that he could swing the legs over the side of the cot. A sudden thought occurred to the soldier and he was on his feet, reaching for a tunic to hide his nakedness. “Were Brian and Justin not able to get away safely?”

“Brian was able to get away with no problems whatsoever,” Emile was quick to assure him.

However, Benvolio was far from assured. “What of Justin? Brian would not have left without him willingly.”

“I do not know what happened, but Justin is still in the camp,” Emile told him, glancing at him nervously.

“In the camp?” Benvolio cried in shock. “That is impossible. Brian was adamant that he leave with Justin so that he could keep him from being killed.”

“I know that as well as you, but during the night something went wrong.... You do not think that Brian went to the village on his own?” Emile wondered aloud, staring at Benvolio in shock.

Benvolio squeezed his eyes shut tight and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That is exactly what the fool did.”

Dressing quickly, Benvolio mentally began to plot out a way to remedy the situation the stubborn lovers had forced upon the rest of them. No doubt both believed that they were doing what was best; Justin nobly facing his death and Brian turning his back on his own people and likely walking into his own death. Both were foolhardy ventures especially given that the two could both be living safe and together at that very moment.

Would be living safe if they could only coordinate their individual plans.

“I am going to Caesar to see if he knows anything about Brian’s disappearance,” Benvolio announced as he belted his gladius to his side. “It is unlikely that I will be given a chance to speak to Justin, but I will find out all that I am able to.”

Emile nodded his head, still moving around nervously. “I will remain here if you do not object.”

Benvolio nodded his head absently, already moving towards the exit of the tent. He did not have a great deal of time within which to operate.

“Your timing is impeccable as always, Benvolio,” Caesar called out as he appeared between a pair of tents. “I was on my way to fetch you.”

“What do you require of me, Caesar?” Benvolio asked as he fell in step beside the older man. “Is there something amiss?”

“At this moment, no,” Caesar assured him, leading the way towards the forge where Justin was being kept.

As they neared the ramshackle buildings that formed the temporary forge, Benvolio felt his stomach clench. He could make out Justin’s prone form and knew that Emile was right. On some level he had hoped that Emile was mistaken and that Justin had disappeared along with Brian the night before. 

It was all that he could do not to react outwardly as Justin was kicked viciously in the ribs. The young blonde had done nothing whatsoever to deserve such treatment. He was not a spy, an assassin or any other entity meant to bring about Caesar’s end. None of that would matter to Caesar. Justin was a Celt and therefore a threat as far as the aging general was concerned.

“I know full well that you can understand both Latin and Greek,” Caesar said almost absently as he stood towering over Justin. “So do not think for one moment that you can hide behind that weak defense. You will tell me what it is that I wish to know. Do it promptly and your end will be quick and painless. Resist and in the end you will be begging for your death.”

Justin’s response was silence. He stared up at the powerful Roman without uttering a single word which Benvolio knew would only enrage Caesar further. The man’s temper was already at the breaking point because of the lack of progress that had been made in the three weeks they had been on the island. Benvolio knew that it would not take much to excite Caesar’s temper, but he would not be able to warn Justin of that without giving himself away. He would have to trust that Justin would not do anything to get himself killed before the next dawn.

A hope that was quickly dwindled to nothing.

Justin remained silent through Caesar’s question which was quite startling to Benvolio. He had not doubted that Justin would do whatever he could to protect Brian, but as the silence continued Benvolio realized just how strong that devotion was. Even as he was bound upright between two of the buildings, his arms outstretched, Justin gave no outward side of fear.

“I will give you one final chance to answer my questions.”

It was obvious that Caesar was quite close to allowing his anger dominance as he stalked towards Justin, their bodies nearly touching when he halted.

Justin tilted his head to the side, meeting Caesar’s gaze. There was a slight smirk twisting his features as he taunted the older man. “I have always heard that the mighty general of the Roman army was the result of a union between a woman and an ass. I had not thought those rumors to be true.”

Benvolio winced inwardly at Justin’s words. Caesar did not take kindly to attacks made on his person which was why it was no surprise to the harried soldier when his general shouted for Justin to be flogged.

Knowing that there was nothing he could do for Justin, there was only one other course of action he could take that would ensure that neither of the lovers would be killed with the coming dawn. Excusing himself from Caesar’s presence, Benvolio headed north to where he knew Justin’s village to be located. There was no doubt in Benvolio’s mind that Brian had went there after his failed attempted to liberate Justin. He had known Brian a great many years and had learned long ago that the other man zealously guarded all that he held dear. Justin was now numbered among those individuals that Brian would give his life to defend.

“I have utterly lost my mind,” Benvolio mused aloud as he retraced Brian’s path from the night before.

It was not exactly the truth. Benvolio’s loyalties were to Brian before Caesar and Rome so where his friend went he would follow without fail even if that path led them into Tartarus itself.

Nor would this be the first time that Benvolio sought out his friend in the midst of a Celtic encampment. He could only hope that what he found amidst the earthen buildings would not be the same scene he had witness a few months before. That Brian would not be severely injured both in body and in mind a second time. Benvolio did not think he would ever be able to forget the sight of Brian sprawled on the ground, bloodied and ravaged as a result of his imprisonment. He had stayed close to his friend during his convalescence, tending to his injuries and helping him through the ensuing nightmares that plagued his sleep.

While Brian had healed physically from his ordeal, it was not until they arrived in Britannia that Benvolio’s fear for his friend’s mental well being began to fade. Within days of Justin’s sudden appearance in Brian’s tent and in his life, Benvolio had noticed something in his eyes. For the first time in many long weeks he had seen an emotion besides fear or a frightening emptiness in Brian’s eyes. In its place was hope. Justin was an embodiment of that and Benvolio would not allow that to be taken from his friend.

Benvolio stopped abruptly when he heard a twig snap not far to his right. Holding himself with his back perfectly straight, Benvolio slowly lifting his hands up on either side of his body. “I must speak with your chieftain. It is about his son and a man who I suspect came this way during the night.”

At first he was met only with silence. Benvolio knew that he had not quite mastered the Celtic language, but he did comprehend enough to hopefully get himself to the village alive.

“Throw down your weapons.”

Benvolio sent a silent prayer to the gods then did as he was instructed. “I have no intentions of putting up a fight. I only need to speak with the man who came here last night. A soldier. Tall, dark hair, very determined to ensure that your chieftain’s son does not die tomorrow.”

No words were spoken to him, but Benvolio soon found himself surrounded on all sides by half a dozen warriors, all well armed. Without speaking to him, the ground of Celts began to lead him through the forest towards the village that Benvolio had been searching for. He could only hope that his assumptions were correct and that Brian was indeed there.

It actually surprised Benvolio that he had gotten so close to the village for it took only a few minutes for them to arrive at the outer edges of the village. From there, Benvolio was paraded through the rows of primitive buildings until he found himself in what he assumed to be the heart of the village. Off to one side there was yet another group of warriors who were all standing around a single thing.

Several of them moved and Benvolio was shocked to see Brian stretched out on a long, flat boulder which looked an awful lot like a boulder. There was an older, red-haired lady leaning over his upper body, prodding his chest with instruments that Benvolio could not make out from a distance. What was obvious, however, was the pain that was etched so clearly on Brian’s features.

“Brian!” Benvolio shouted, attempting to make his way through the throng of men that encircled him.

The other Roman’s head turned in his direction, the pained expression turning to one of disbelief. “Benvolio, what are you doing here?”

“It was my intentions to ensure that you had not done anything to jeopardize your life or Justin’s,” Benvolio called back, holding up his hands defensively when he found a sword shoved in his face.

“I can assure you that I am well, Benvolio,” was Brian’s response, his voice tinged with more than a bit of pain. “You should be back at the camp ensuring that Caesar does not go too far in his interrogation.”

The exchange had been made entirely in Latin which garnered the pair more than a few unwanted looks. One man in particular stood out, his arms crossed over his chest. Benvolio assumed that this man, who bore a slight resemblance to Brian’s lover, was the chieftain.

“Are you another Roman bent on changing your allegiance?” the ma inquired, favouring Benvolio with a look recognized from his first meeting with Justin; when the younger man had been attempting to determine his intentions.

“I am,” Benvolio confirmed without the slightest hesitation.

“Benvolio, no!” Brian protested, a pained cry escaping his lips a breath later.

“The choice is not yours to make, Brian,” Benvolio countered, his gaze never straying from the Celt’s. “In any event you should know by now that where you go, I go. I do not trust you to keep yourself out of harm’s way.”

“How moving,” Craig drawled, annoyance tingeing his voice. “What I would appreciate is to know what is going on.”

Benvolio stood at attention, his hands clasped behind his back. “Brian and myself, as well as another unnamed faction, intend on doing everything within our power to keep Justin alive despite Caesar’s wishes otherwise.”

“Now one individual defecting I could believe, but three?” the chieftain mused, not bothering to hide his disbelief. “I highly doubt that my son is capable of inspiring such devotion.”

“My current position would suggest otherwise,” Brian shouted, attempting to rise only to be stopped by a firm hand on his chest. “We are here to help you rid yourselves of Caesar and his army. All you need do is simply allow us to do that.”

The Celtic chieftain switched his gaze from Benvolio to Brian and back again several times. It was easy to see the battle going on within the older man. As frustrating as his attitude was, Benvolio did not fault him for being overly cautious. The man held a great many lives under his care and could not afford any careless mistakes.

“Have I passed your test now?”

Both Benvolio and Craig turned their attention to Brian. While the chieftain seemed more annoyed than anything, Benvolio could not hide his shock. He had never once doubted Brian’s devotion to Justin, but never once had Benvolio thought that his friend would go to such extremes to prove that dedication.

“What have you done?” Benvolio demanded, staring at Brian in absolute shock.

“Proven my devotion,” Brian announced much more casually than Benvolio would have expected.

In the hours that followed, Benvolio was unable to fully wrap his mind around the fact that Brian had changed his allegiances so completely. Knowing Brian as well as he did there was no doubt in Benvolio’s mind that the decisions the other man was making had not been made lightly. And given Brian’s personal history with the Celtic tribes it could not have been an easy decision for him to come to. For that Benvolio admired his friend more than ever before.

Nor could he fault the man’s tactical skills. Despite his high emotional involvement, Brian remained as objective as Benvolio had ever seen him. He made decisions that Benvolio was not sure he would have been able to make were it someone he loved as completely as Brian loved Justin in danger.

“Are you certain this is wise, Brian?” Benvolio questioned, chewing nervously on his bottom lip as he beheld the roughed out map the other Roman had scribbled in the dirt.

Brian scrubbed a hand over his face, pushing his bangs away from his face and inadvertently making them stick up on end. “It can not be done otherwise, Ben. I have gone over it every other way in my mind and this is the best way to ensure that Justin lives through the encounter.”

“Perhaps if you made your entrance from this point?” Craig suggested, indicating an avenue neither of the Romans had considered. “It would be less expected than your intended assault and is also closer to where you say Justin will be located.”

“Then we will need to move this contingent of archers here,” Brian indicated by stabbing the tip of a dagger into the ground.

The sun had nearly made its descent below the horizon when all three were satisfied with the strategy for Justin’s rescue. The trio had gone over every detail as much as they were able in an attempt to make the plan as flawless as humanly possible given the time constraints. Benvolio prayed that it would be possible to remedy any inaccuracies during the course of events.

And that they would be successful.

Very reluctantly, Benvolio allowed Brian to convince him to return to the Roman camp once the initial preparations were complete.

“I am trusting you with the most important thing in my life,” Brian said in Latin so that the Celts would not be able to understand his words. “None of this will be necessary if Justin does not survive the night. Keep him safe.”

“You know I will, Brian,” Benvolio assured him, clasping hands with his longtime friend before turning and moving back towards the wilderness that separated the two factions.

A few hours later, Benvolio sat himself next to Justin’s slumbering form, hoping that he would be able to keep that promise.

“Brian....” Justin whimpered, shifting uncomfortably in his sleep.

Benvolio pressed the heels of his palms against his closed eyelids and let out a deep breath. His world was quickly spinning out of control and he was very close to floundering. He was not allowed to, however, because there were a great many lives hanging in the balance, his own and Brian and Justin’s least of all.


	19. Edge of the World

Whatever bravery or bravado he had been experiencing before was vanishing as they neared the site where the execution was to take place. His body ached fiercely as a result of the various injuries he had received the previous day, but he knew that it would have been much worse had Emile not tended to the worst of them. Still, even though his movements were stiff and painful to make, Justin had walked with his head help up, unwilling to show his fear to the people who were plotting his death.

By the time he’d woken, Benvolio was already gone and Emile was hovering over him. Fussing over him and trying to make him as comfortable as possible. At the time Justin had not had the heart to tell him to leave him be. He would be dead soon in any event so it did not matter whether he was comfortable or not.

The one thing that Justin truly wanted was the impossible.

A romantic notion that had come from reading too many of the scrolls that Brian kept in the chest in his tent. Realistically, Justin knew that there would be no rescue. A fact that he had resigned himself to.

Still, Justin had foolishly hoped to see Brian at some point during the day, but the other man had been absent. Even as he was paraded through the Roman camp prior to heading to the forsaken location where his life was to come to an end there had been no sign of the hazel-eyed soldier. A familiar panic had gripped Justin then. He feared that something had happened to Brian. He would not have put it past the other man to attempt some lunacy that would end him in a similar situation. That was the last thing Justin wanted and why he had taken the blame for Michaelo’s murder upon himself.

“All will turn out in the end. I am sure of it,” Emile had whispered to him as they heard Caesar’s approach that morning. All that Justin had managed was a slight smile before Benvolio had reentered the tent, followed immediately by Rome’s great general.

If he strained his eyes enough, Justin could make out the rock formation at the edge of the heated pool where he and Brian had come together for the first time. Its presence lent a surprising amount of calm to Justin at that time when he knew that the remainder of his life could be measured by mere moments.

Though Brian was not there, an absence Justin could understand for he would not have been able to bear the sight of Brian’s death, several men that Justin knew were. Men that he had known since childhood would now be there to see his end. For a fleeting moment, Justin met his father’s eyes and could sense the older man pleading with him to escape. To, at the very least, resist his certain demise.

Yet Justin could not.

He was dying to ensure that Brian lived. In his mind, there could be no better exchange. Still, he would have liked to have seen Brian one final time. In his absence, Justin instead chose to focus on the last night he and Brian had shared together. The feel of Brian’s skin so warm against his own. How intense his eyes had been, as though they were attempting to lock the image within his mind even though, at the time, they had both believed they would share many more encounters.

Mere hours later, Justin found himself confessing to the murder Brian had committed in his defense.

“This boy’s death should be a lesson to you and all those who would murder my men,” Caesar bellowed in Latin though Justin knew that none of the Celts present spoke the language. At least not more than a few words.

Justin, however, knew the meaning of every word that had been spat from the Roman general’s lips and stood still straighter upon hearing them. Despite his current physical state, he refused to appear weak even knowing what was to come.

A cry rose up from the band of Celts indicating that Caesar’s words had been translated for all. Outnumbered and surrounded, there was little they could do outside of their verbal protests. Justin heard the pleas from the dozen or so men present for him to fight. To not give in to Roman will and somehow cheat death. When Justin made no move to obey, their anger was turned upon him, renouncing him in order to avoid casting shame upon themselves. He was spat upon and reviled, yet their anger did not touch him.

To Justin, all that mattered was Brian’s continued survival. He was certain that neither of their gods were cruel enough to divide them for an eternity. Their separation would only be temporary. On the day Brian was called to the Otherworld, they would meet once again. Of that Justin had no doubt. It was that thought alone which strengthened his resolve to meet his fate.

Rough hands gripped his upper arms, viciously wrenching him back to the present. No matter how hard he tried to distance himself from the physical world, their painful hold aggravated the burn marks on his arms and kept his mind firmly grounded on his surroundings. Justin raised his eyes to the heavens, vainly searching out some clue that would confirm his beliefs.

Dark, angry storm clouds were his response. The gods had closed their ears to his pleas. Brian was lost to him. The Great Mother would not allow them to meet again once he left the earthly realm. He was doomed to wander the Otherworld alone, Brian separated from him in his Roman Elysium.

Despair washing over him, Justin allowed his head to drop. Before his gaze once again became focused on the ground before him, a flickering movement caught his attention. The glint of sunlight reflecting off water. The small specks of white light bounced off the rock ledge which sat at the north end of the hot spring. A sacred place to him which the gods had seen fit to bless.

There would be no separation. In blessing the spring the gods had blessed their union. Neither the Mother Goddess nor mighty Jupiter would not take Brian from him permanently.

Justin was given no time to revel in the knowledge. His eyes still following the dancing shards of light, he was shoved to his knees before a large slab of rock upon which he would take his final breath. Justin wavered, pain radiating through his entire body and making him lightheaded. He took a series of deep breaths, riding out the pain and steadying himself as best as he was able.

In moments his life would be extinguished, his body turned to nothing more than a lifeless vessel. 

Would his remains be given the proper rites? 

Would the Great Mother be able to reclaim his body into her womb or would his bones be scattered above the surface of the earth?

Though such thoughts were futile as he would never know their outcomes, Justin found himself plagued by them. It was foolish of him to hope that Brian would ensure his proper burial. His fellow soldiers would never permit it.

A loud, piercing cry rent the very fabric of the air as though the heavens were screaming in protest to his imminent death.

The cry possessed a mortal ring to it, however. A cry that Justin had heard more than once, muted against his own lips. A cry of love, of passion, of a connection that went so deep that not even the god could tear them asunder.

Justin felt calm, knowing that he would see Brian at his last. He would take his final breath within sight of the hazel eyes to which he had devoted his very existence.

“Centurians, surround him!” Caesar ordered when the cry repeated itself a second time. “Subdue the barbarian!”

At the command, Justin assumed that it was him to which Caesar had referred. It was only when he was hauled to his feet and shoved roughly away that he realized that he was not the barbarian Caesar wished to see subdued.

It was not even a Celt.

It was Brian.

The soldier rode bareback atop a fully grown black stallion, his normally sad eyes blazing with a wild fury that startled even Justin himself. His Roman garb had been replaced by leather breeches similar to Justin’s own, heavy leather boots rising to the middle of his calves to meet the bottom of the leggings. Brian’s only other attire were Justin’s own wristguards, fastened firmly to his forearms. 

Were this the only changes in Brian’s appearance, his fellow soldiers would not have mistaken him for a barbarian. The blue paint which was smeared across his naked torso, arms, neck and face combined with his paint-streaked hair accomplished that. In place of his Roman gladius, Justin was shocked to see his own heavy broadsword clasped firmly in Brian’s right hand, deflecting blows from the shorter blades.

In the midst of the chaos, Justin’s eyes focused on a small detail that others would have likely missed. A tattoo on his chest, centered over his heart, which stood out in sharp contrast against his pale skin. Even from the distance that separated them and the fact that it was still swollen and healing, Justin could tell that it was a simplistic rendering of the summer sun.

Impressive as Brian was on his own, it was the entire army of Celtic warriors that appeared out of the trees in similar battle regalia that was frightening. Even in the frenzy, Justin knew that it was more than just the warriors from his own village that comprised the army.

“Behind you, Justin!” Brian shouted in Gaelic, a warning which came just in time to prevent him from being speared on the end of a Roman lance. “Get onto the stone!”

The Celtic warriors had joined in the melee by this point, providing Brian with the necessary distraction to reach Justin. Slamming the blade into the scabbard which was strapped to his back, Brian reached down with his right hand for Justin’s bound ones. He did not slow his approach in the least as he pulled Justin up behind him, the smaller man jumping in order to gain the necessary leverage to get his near leg over the horse’s back so that he straddled the beast.

“Are you on?” Brian called over his shoulder, his right hand still clasping Justin’s own.

Justin scooted himself as close as possible to his lover and confirmed Brian’s question, “I am.”

With one final growl, like that of an angry wolf, Brian spurred the horse into a gallop. 

Away from the camp.

Away from the two factions.

To freedom.

A freedom that, quite honestly, Justin had never thought to experience again. He had fully expected to die even after he’d learned that Brian had gone missing the day before. Justin hadn’t allowed himself to hope that his lover would mount a rescue for him that way, if it did not happen, he would not be let down at the moment of his death.

Everything began to descend on Justin as he realized that he was not going to die-- that his lover had saved him --and whatever had been keeping him from feeling the full effects of his injuries began to fade. With his hands still bound in front of him, Justin had to rely on his legs to keep him in the horse for even Brian’s powerful grip on his hands only offered so much support.

“Bri... Brian....” Justin gasped against the other man’s shoulder.

The Roman didn’t slow the horse’s pace, but turned his head slightly so that his chin pressed against the side of Justin’s head for a moment. “What is it, Justin? Are you hurt badly?”

The concern in Brian’s voice was palable and Justin squeezed his hand spasmodically. “I do... I do not know... how much... how much longer I can keep myself seated....”

Almost at once Brian brought the horse to a stop. The loss of the forward motion was so sudden that Justin nearly ended up slithering backwards and off the horse even before Brian dismounted.

“We will have to trade places. You can lean back against me as much as you are able if you feel as though you are about to fall,” Brian informed him as he helped Justin move close to the horse’s withers. 

By that point Justin was nearly doubled over, his forehead resting against the stallion’s neck. He sluggishly attempted to lift his head a few times, but failed, but nonetheless Brian appeared in his line of sight. The paint-smeared Roman reached a hand up, stroking it through Justin’s disheveled hair and leaned up to brush the lightest of kisses against his lips.

“We are almost to safety, Justin,” Brian assured the exhausted Celt. “Just a short distance further and we will be out of the reach of the Romans.”

Justin’s eyes slid shut in relief and he felt the horse shift noticeably to one side indicating that Brian had remounted. As his lover slid behind him, bracketing him between his thighs, Justin allowed Brian to slowly ease him into a more upright position. The pain was close to unbearable each time that his back would come into full contact with Brian’s chest, but between the two of them soon found a position that put the least amount of pressure possible on Justin’s back.

When they began moving forward again, Justin braced himself as best as he was able against the pain of the ride. He tightened his muscles and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, attempting to block out everything but the feel of Brian’s warm breath against his forehead. Justin was sitting with his head resting against Brian’s shoulder, his face turned towards the elegant throat that was smeared blue.

While Justin would have readily believed that the paint was only meant to be a temporary disguise, a way to make himself indistinguishable from the other Celts, the tattoo was permanent. It could not be removed with a simple washing like the blue paints.

The tattoo was permanent.

With it, Brian would never be able to return to the Romans. Even were he able to create a story to explain the presence of the tattoo, the suspicion would always remain. Brian’s absence had been noticed and that his return would take place so soon after Justin’s own rescue would not go unnoticed.

There could be no greater declaration of his shifted alliance than the bolt swirling circle meant to represent the summer sun.

“You should not have done what you did,” Justin mumbled against the side of Brian’s throat, shifting slightly so that only his shoulders touched Brian’s chest.

“And let you die?” Brian countered, his voice stiff. “You have to know that I would never allow that, Justin. I could not stand idly by while you were killed.”

“But your life... You can never go back,” Justin protested.

Brian pressed his face against the top of Justin’s head, breathing deeply. “I have told you many times, Justin, my home is where you are. I have severed my ties to Rome and do not regret it.”

“I never wanted that,” Justin insisted, feeling foolish as tears began to prick at the back of his eyes.

“I did not do this for you,” Brian told him, shifting his hold slightly so that Justin was held more securely. “In case you have not noticed, I am a very selfish person. I did this for me. So that I would not lose the other half of my very being.”

Moving sluggishly, Justin slid his hand atop of Brian’s which was resting over his stomach. He twined his fingers through Brian’s, holding tight as he was able. “I love you, Brian. More than you will ever know.”

It became difficult for Justin to judge the passage of time after that. He faded in and out of consciousness as he attempted to evade the numbing pain that coursed through his entire body. When he was awake, Justin did his best to focus his attention on the feel of Brian’s lips as they brushed against his forehead, murmuring softly.

“We will be safe soon, Justin.”

“Nothing will ever keep us separated again.”

“You are the strongest person I know. The bravest.”

“You are my soul’s other half.”

That last sentiment stayed with Justin as he drifted off completely, safely enveloped in his lover’s arms.


	20. Edge of the World

He could feel his entire body shaking as he stared down at Justin’s slumbering form. Even though he had his lover safe with him, Brian could not erase from his mind the image of Justin bound, about to be executed. It was not until that moment that he actually feared that Justin would be taken from him.

Taking advantage of Justin’s slumber, Brian tended to his wounds that had been aggravated by their escape from the Roman camp. Having been made victim to such tortures before, Brian knew the kind of agony Justin was feeling and wanted to do whatever he could to remedy it.

“I do not know what I would have done if you had been taken from me,” Brian murmured as he gently stroked a wet cloth along Justin’s cheek. “How I would have functioned knowing that you had been taken from me. It is a relief that I will not have to find out for what I hope will be an entire lifetime.”

“I doubt that even death could separate us.”

Releasing a loud breath, Brian leaned over so that his forehead was pressed to Justin’s exposed cheek. “If you ever pull a stunt like that again I shall kill you myself. You would have saved yourself a great deal of pain had you just come with me.”

“That would have made things entirely too easy for you,” Justin murmured exhaustedly.

“The real reason?” Brian asked as he stretched himself out next to his lover.

Justin lifted a hand to rest against Brian’s cheek. “I wanted you safe. I knew that if I went with you it would only end badly. Caesar would have had you killed for helping me escape.”

“You do not know that,” Brian protested earnestly. “We would have gone to your father and you would have been safe from harm.”

“I was not willing to take a chance with your life,” Justin whispered solemnly, pursing his lips. “You had already taken too much of a risk when you killed Michaelo. However, I am grateful for the effort.”

“I am merely grateful that it worked,” Brian sighed then, mindful of Justin’s injuries, draped an arm across the Celt’s shoulders and brought himself within a hairsbreadth of Justin’s chest.

Their stony bed was far from comfortable, but Brian didn’t mind sacrificing his blankets so that Justin could rest easily. Brian had arranged with Craig for him and Justin to disappear for at least a day, perhaps a second depending on the blonde’s condition. Between Craig and Benvolio, Brian knew that the Celts would be well protected and had no qualms about staying away for more than a day. Especially not if Justin needed the time. Brian could only hope that because it had only been a single day that Justin had been subjected to such tortures that he would not be haunted by it as he was by his own encounter in an enemy camp.

“Were you planning on remaining painted until you managed to rub it all off?” Justin inquired, running a finger along the center of Brian’s chest, the tip of his finger coming very close to the still tender tattoo. “You should make sure to keep the tattoo clean. At least until it heals over completely. Dare I even ask when inspired this?”

Brian removed his hand from Justin’s shoulder so that he could placing his hand over the blonde’s on his own chest. “That is your grandmother’s doing. She decided that since your hair resembles the brightness of the summer sun that my tattoo should do the same.”

“That sounds like my grandmother,” Justin confirmed, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Now come, I trust that you have planned this so that we are close to a hot spring.”

“You know me well,” Brian murmured, leaning forward to cover Justin’s lips with his own.

Being extremely careful with Justin because of his injuries, Brian guided him out of the cave and the short distance to the heated spring. Craig had taken him to the cave the night before so that Brian would not only know where it was but also so that he would be able to drop off some supplies for himself and Justin; bedrolls, food and the like.

It took them only a few minutes to reach the spring and once there they undressed silently. Though they did not say anything aloud, Brian was certain that the he was not the only one remembering identical events that had happened only three days before. Brian took the same care he had with Justin the previous afternoon, not wanting to cause his lover any unnecessary pain.

“This is just as blissful as I remember,” Justin sighed as he sunk to up to his shoulders in the heated water.

Brian waded towards him, submerging himself completely when he was just under an arm’s length from his lover. While he was under water, Brian scrubbed at his body vigorously, attempting to rid himself of as much of the blue paint as possible now that it had served his purpose. Having seen his own reflection after having been liberally smeared concealing mixture, even Brian was amazed by his transformation. The only thing he had been lacking to be a true Celt were more tattoos and longer hair.

Since he had strategically placed himself in front of his lover, Brian had no difficulty whatsoever in finding Justin’s hips and clasping them firmly in his hands. As he leaned forward to nuzzle the hardening cock, a pair of hands gripped at his shoulders.

Moments later, Brian emerged sputtering from the water, a wide smile plastered on his features. It was relief more than anything which fueled it and he was pleased to see his expression mirrored on Justin’s own face.

“I should be angry with you for giving up so much because of me,” Justin murmured, reaching up to hold Brian’s cheeks in his hands.

Brian shook his head, leaning down to capture Justin’s lips in a powerful kiss. He brought his own hands up, holding the underside of Justin’s jaw as he devoured the full lips that he took such pleasure in. Taking advantage of Justin’s breathy moan, Brian slid his tongue in, searching out Justin’s own.

“I want to feel you inside of me,” Brian gasped when he was forced to release Justin’s lips in order to draw in a fresh breath of air.

A few weeks ago, Brian would not have even pondered the idea. It was only slaves or young boys that were in the subservient role in homosexual relationships. Brian had no desire to take a preferred role with Justin. His passion for Justin consumed every bit of him. There was no end to his love and he wanted there to be no end to their union.

He could tell that Justin was startled by his proclamation, but made no move to stop the converted Celt as he led the younger man towards one of the rocky sides of the pool. Brian offered up another hard kiss, nodding his head slightly when Justin still looked unsure, before turning his back on the blonde.

There were several long moments of hesitation before Brian felt Justin’s hand trailing down the center of his back, his fingertips weaving a long, curving trail until they reached the base of his spine. It was only a single finger that continued with the journey and brushed over the concealed opening.

“Are you certain?” Justin questioned, his voice not much more than a whisper.

Turning his upper body so that he could gaze at his lover, Brian reached out a hand to cup the side of his face. “Completely.”

As if to test that conviction, the tip of Justin’s finger immediately breached the tight circle of muscles. Brian’s response was to push out his hips, attempting to force Justin’s finger deeper. Still obviously hesitant, Justin slowly stretched Brian’s hole using first one then two fingers.

“If you take much longer,” Brian panted, dropping his head forward so that he could press his face into his outstretched arm. “I will have finished before you have even begun.”

The fingers were removed and Brian soon felt a wider, much more blunt object pressing against him. Brian’s mouth fell open in a silent moan as more and more of Justin’s seemingly endless length eased into his hole. He was desperate to thrust backwards, but did not want to risk pressing up against any of the day old burns and welts that covered his lover’s chest.

Both of them relaxed slightly as Justin’s hips pressed firmly against Brian’s ass. That lasted for only a moment before Justin slowly began to thrust in and out of Brian’s clenching hole. Since they could not see each other’s faces, Brian removed his left hand from the rock shelf and laced his fingers with Justin’s which was clutching at his hip. Justin squeezed Brian’s fingers between his own, crying out when Brian mimicked the action below.

Their movements were slow and sensuous, neither in any rush to reach the peak. They moved in tandem with each other, their thrusts timed so that they came together as one, a gasp torn from their throats, sometimes heard, sometimes not.

It was Justin who removed their joined hands from his hip, leaning forward so that both of their fingers were able to wrap around Brian’s cock. Their was no motion beyond that, allowing their own thrusting to push Brian’s penis through the channel created by their fingers, creating a marvelous friction.

Justin was the first to reach orgasm, his body jerking spasmodically, and as the warm liquid shot into Brian’s bowels he screamed his own release, his body slumping forward. For several long minutes neither one of them moved, from both reluctance or sheer inability. When Justin finally did slide his softening member from Brian’s hole, the dark-haired man turned automatically and carefully pulled Justin into his arms.

“I feel as though my bones have been temporarily misplaced,” Justin sighed against the side of Brian’s throat. “I could not move for anything.”

“Because I am feeling magnanimous, I shall not challenge that claim,” Brian grinned, his own body in a similar state. “You are not in any pain? Moreso than before?”

Justin shook his head slightly, his forehead nuzzling against Brian’s throat. “No more than before. The water is helping a great deal. As is having you with me again.”

“Had you not attempted such foolishness, we would not have been separated,” Brian chided, pressing his face to Justin’s damp hair. “It will not happen again. I shall not allow the gods nor you to tear us asunder a second time.”

“I can assure you that I have no intentions of play acting nobility in such a manner again,” Justin was quick to assure him, lifting his head so that his clear blue eyes bore into Brian’s hazel ones. “The reality of it is too painful to waste on a futile gesture. Do not be mistaken, though, for I will do what I must to save your life even if it means the sacrifice of my own.”

“Now is not the time for such declarations,” Brian murmured, dipping his head down so that he could rub his nose along the side of Justin’s. “What we need to is to relax and recuperate from the terror of the past few days. Regain the bliss that was stolen from us.”

For the duration of the day, Brian and Justin alternated between the heated spring and the damp grass that surrounded it, separating only once when Brian made a quick journey back to the cave to get some food for a midday meal. Brian was extremely careful with Justin, not wanting to cause him any more pain, but still needing to have him close. So close that he felt as though he were disappearing inside his love, never to return. Brian welcomed it, allowing his love for Justin to consume him and become fused to his very being.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, the pair retreated back to the cave. Aside from the morning’s early drama, they had spent the day in blissful relaxation and had no intentions of altering their activities once the sun had set.

“There is no need for you to treat me like something fragile,” Justin said, reaching for Brian’s hand in an attempt to pull the older man down next to him. “I would feel much better having you next to me than not. Feel you inside me....”

Dropping a final log on the fire, Brian turned to face Justin and dropped down next to him, stretching himself out on the small mattress of blankets they had constructed upon their return. He reached out to stroke Justin’s cheek then leaned in to purposely rub his face against the two day’s worth of stubble that covered Justin’s jaw and throat. It was very pale, even paler than the hair that covered the rest of his body.

The rest of the night, lit only by the small fire that blazed a few feet from where they, Brian paid homage to Justin’s damaged body. Dedra had sent various salves along with Brian in order to help heal the injuries inflicted on him by the Romans and Brian tenderly applied each of them while massaging Justin’s entire body in the process.

“Now my bones have most certainly vanished,” Justin sighed some time later, barely able to keep his eyes open by that point. “Once I am able to track them all down I have every intention of repaying the favour.”

Brian leaned over to kiss Justin’s forehead. “This was not a favour. This was me caring for my injured lover in an attempt to reassure myself that he is real before me. It is really quite a selfish thing.”

“Well, selfish or not, it is very much appreciated.”

Even though Brian would have rather stayed away with Justin for the full two days he had agreed upon with Craig, he bowed to his lover’s desire to return to his village the following morning. Brian was willing to admit to his own curiosity about the outcome of the previous day’s battle. His main concern lie with Benvolio and Emile, silently praying that those two had survived.

“Brian!” his longtime friend shouted as they rode into the camp.

Bringing the horse to a stop, Brian slid off the back of his horse. “Benvolio!”

The two men embraced and as Brian stepped back to see how Justin was fairing, he was startled by the change Benvolio had undergone. Like Brian, Benvolio’s body now bore the evidence of his adopted culture in the form of a tattoo on his left shoulder and right bicep. Brian stared at the tattoos for a moment then shook his head and turned to Justin who was wrapped up in his grandmother’s arms.

“It would seem that your plan worked better than expected,” Craig said as he approached the growing crowd. “The Roman camp is dismantling as we speak.”

That was certainly not what Brian had expected. He had known that Caesar would not take kindly to the Celtic uprising, but had not thought that it would be enough to cause the general to order a retreat. It was only a temporary retreat, though. Brian did not doubt that for a moment because Caesar would not take kindly to such a slight and would be back to exact his vengeance.

True to Brian’s prediction, Caesar did return six months later with an entire army at his back.

During their six months of freedom from the Roman threat, Brian and Justin forged a bond even stronger than the one that had already existed. The two were seen more often together than apart, occasionally disappearing for days on end to locations that only they knew.

At the end of the third month, Brian and Justin had taken part in a moonlit ceremony performed by Dedra with only Benvolio as a witness. The handfasting ritual bound their lives together just as definitely as any marriage. Only Dedra and Benvolio knew that the ceremony had taken place, having been sworn to secrecy by the united couple.

“It does not matter what anyone thinks of our union,” Justin said as he and Brian lounged in the heated spring where they had first came together. “It is only for us. Nothing will come between us.”

A statement which would be put too the test far sooner than Brian wanted.

 

Barely three months later, Brian stared at the approaching ships, a huge sense of dread washing over him. The size of the army that was crossing the channel was at least double the size of the one that had fled during the summer.

“We knew that this would happen,” Benvolio said as he came to stand on Brian’s right. “Caesar is determined to conquer the entire world including this island.”

“I had hoped that he would be distracted on the continent longer than this,” Brian sighed, scrubbing his jaw with the back of his hand. “It does not feel as though he has been gone at all.... Are we ready for this?”

“You know that we are, Brian,” Justin confirmed from his place at Brian’s left.

“The tribes are united and determined to beat Caesar back,” Benvolio added. He patted Brian’s shoulder then left the lovers standing along on the hillside, heading back to the village to report their findings.

When they were alone, Brian wrapped his arms around his love’s torso, holding him close. He was not naive enough to believe that all would be well simply because he willed it to be. Caesar would hold nothing back on his second attempt to take the island and Brian knew that they would have a difficult time beating the Romans back.

“Regardless of what happens in the coming weeks, we will survive in spirit if not in body,” Justin declared, staring straight ahead at the incoming ships. “I have on intentions of ever giving you up.”

“Nor I you,” Brian murmured against the side of Justin’s head.

Linking the fingers of his right hand with Justin’s, Brian backed away from the blonde and turned away from the shore.

Justin’s gaze stayed locked on the incoming ships a few moments longer before the pull of Brian’s and in his forced him to abandon his position.


End file.
